Mr Reaper
by EeveeGen9988
Summary: A young Reaper set in his ways has enough of seeing Shibuya being left unprotected from criminals, and finds himself leading those of common interest to take action. If only he knew how one step to betterment would lead to another he would take alone... Written for [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm 2019] and [Twelve Shots of Summer 2019].
1. Mr Son

**Mr. Reaper**

**I do not own The World Ends With You, Square Enix does!**

**Mr. Reaper Part 0 was written as a one-shot for Twelve Shots of Summer: Hexa-Code-Kernal - Week 7...**

**Subsequent chapters may or may not reflect the same disclaimer format as seen above and will receive author notes when applicable.**

**...**

**0 - Mr. Son**

* * *

**Year of 1975...**

* * *

"Sweetie, you fret over nothing... Sooner or later, Kage will become part of the family, and you will have a father again."

Her son went rigid at those words.

"Father again…?" he echoed bitterly, shaking his head angrily before raising his voice coldly. "Do you really _think_ I should have a father _again_!?" He gestured to himself and her stiffly. "_My_ father- _your_ husband-" He cried out harshly when thinking about the absurdity as he shot a glare at her, "Do you really _think_ you could just replace him with a _scumbag_!?"

Her dark gaze sharpened. "He is _not_ scum, he is a _wonderful_ man!"

The near adult incredulously scoffed, "_Yeah_ right- whenever he's belittling you... controlling your life... he is _such_ an _angel_-"

"_Enough of this_\- I do not like how you have never given him a chance and have affronted him at his every visit!" she shrieked shrilly, and he recoiled upon her reproach. She rose to her feet, her dark brown eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she continued her scolding, "We _both_ lost your father, but that is no excuse for me to remain a _widow_!" She shook her index finger at him. "I can move on if I want... I know you love your father and miss him, but you cannot snub Kage because he is _not_ your father!"

"That's a _perfect_ reason for me to snub him!" He threw up his arms in frustration, laughing humourlessly before snarling viciously, "He will _never_ be my father! _Especially_ when that _swine_ doesn't even know how to treat you properly with the love and respect you deserve!" He rose to his feet, stiffly standing before his mother. "He _doesn't_ know you like you _think_ you know him- I _had_ to step in front of his hand that was intended for _you_ last time!" He narrowed his eyes to slits, spitting out furiously, "Who _raises_ a hand to someone they're _dating_!? He doesn't _care_ for you-"

"_That is enough_!" she snapped. "If you have a problem with him, you _do not_ have to stay living with me!"

He wilted as he widened his eyes in horror, gaping at her speechless for a long minute. Soon, he stuttered out in dismay, "Th-Then who will _protect_ you!?"

"I do not _need_ protection, I just want to be with someone I _love_!" she huffed as she coldly regarded him with a glare. As her slight facial wrinkles twisted hideously, his heart sunk. "You are nearly old enough to live on your own… I do not care if you are almost twenty, you appear to know better than me, so I think you are now responsible enough to leave since you are the more mature adult out of the two of us."

A heated surface of a knife's blade wouldn't sting as much and sear into his mind as severely as her barbed words had. "Th-That's _not_ what I was _talking_ about! What do you _mean_ I should leave!?" He gaped incredulously afterwards, pleading desperately with his eyes. **'No- no- no- don't **_**do**_** this-!'**

The black haired widow pursed her lips, not showing any indication she even heard him. "You should not let my relationship anchor you down from progressing, and you _do_ understand I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." She waited, leaving him nonplussed at what to do or say to make her reconsider her decision right now when she raised her voice sternly. "_Well_?"

He lowered his head as he frowned from hurt. "B-But… mother-" She continued to glower at him, leaving him flailing on the spot helplessly. He had to say something to get through to her or it'll be over! "I can't just _leave_ you with him!"

"Why not?" she asked shallowly in taunt, like she was baiting him in to establish her point the moment he messed up. He hated when she acted like this, intentionally making him feel small and worthless…

That's all she saw him as… worthless. Like he didn't matter to her anymore- like he was just being a badly behaved child when she was no different herself… He lived with her all his life- surely she should have cared about _any_ of his concerns or opinions! Acting like he was a dumb fool sprouting out nonsense… when all that he'd done was love her unconditionally as any son would. He had her best interests at heart, dammit!

He wasn't attacking her or fighting with her about her decision to date the absolute _worst_ person in the world, he was trying to _protect_ her! If anyone was snubbing anyone, she was snubbing him! He wouldn't stand for her to continue on like this, not when she was careless about heeding the signs he saw! He promised his father he would protect her, and even _as_ a twelve-year-old, he understood what had to be done.

And he wouldn't dare to back down… even if he _died_ trying!

"You _have_ to listen to me for once!" he retorted vexedly and almost wearily, shaking his head before he unsteadily breathed while searching her expression for the yield he needed to turn this dangerous discussion around. "If I leave, It'll be an insult to father's final words! I can't ignore the way that sc- _man_\- _treats_ you! It's not like I don't want you to be happy-" He felt his lower lip quiver, sniffing wetly as he whispered defeatedly, "I don't want to lose you too…"

She inhaled slowly, soon giving a measured murmur, "You will not."

His eyes burned. **'Don't **_**lie**_** to yourself, you will…'**

"Kage is taking me on another date today," she told him tartly, instantly alarming him as he opened his mouth in protest only to be cut off when she raised a hand to stop him. "I expect you to be polite and play nice or go out for the night to give us some peace." She frowned sadly soon after as she turned to walk to the paper shoji door. As she opened it, she crisply added, "I _need_ this... you must surely understand that."

After she disappeared into the next room, the nineteen-year-old lowered his head into his hands. "You know he's awful… why pretend he'll change or place your own perception of him over your vision?" he asked quietly in the empty room, knowing he wouldn't get an answer even if his mother hadn't left it. He gradually sank back down on his cushion, gripping the fabric of his pants as he settled onto his knees. He shook his head before he choked out fearfully, "You need to understand this isn't _healthy_ for you!"

An impatient knock sounded.

He cursed loudly, his mother immediately shouting out her displeasure of that through the thin walls.

**'Isn't** _**this**_** great... He's an hour earlier than he should be here, so that leaves me and him to our **_**lovely**_** chat **_**again **_**until she's satisfied we've played nicely enough with each other!'** Refusing to budge at first, he was content to let the knocks continue to keep the scumbag out as long as possible for thinking it was just dandy to drop on in at this ungodly hour, only to groan internally when his mother scathingly shrieked for him to get the door already. He stiffly rose as painfully slow as he could, clenching his fists as he took his time to stomp towards the front door as more sharp knocks sounded and ignored his mother's second angry shriek. **'Because heaven knows **_**why**_** my mother thinks she should spend **_**extra **__**time**_** getting ready just to force me to **_**bond**_** with that arrogant **_**scumbag**_** like it's the **_**smartest**_** idea **_**ever**_**!'**

Breathing shakily as his blood boiled, he didn't fail to show how displeased he was to see the man when he opened the door. He glowered icily as Kage's exuberant expression wavered before stabilizing.

"_Hey_ there, Ji-Ji," said the slightly messy haired man in his rumpled dressshirt and scuffed slacks, laughing sheepishly as he pushed past the nineteen-year-old immediately, "Always nice to see you again, I guess..." As the younger male was slammed into the side of the shoji door straightaway, he was dazed as pain throbbed through the side of his face and ribs. Shaking his head a bit, he soon took to observing the unwelcome scumbag when the wooziness cleared.

The sleazy man was pacing and shifting on the ivory tatsumi lazily in his socks, _not_ in the slippers they all had to put on before entering, while acting as if he _owned_ this house! The thought made him narrow his brown eyes more as the thirty-five-year-old man yapped out annoyingly, "Is Amaya-chan around by chance, Ji-Ji?"

**'You're **_**younger**_** than her!' **He fumed as the shoji door stirred. **'Show some respect to my mother, go back outside and _stay out_, and **_**stop**_** calling me '**_**Ji-Ji**_**'!'**

His mother popped her head out from the shoji when it slid open, appearing calm unlike how she was when heckling her own son two minutes ago. Upon seeing her shine immediately before grinning at Kage, it made the nineteen-year-old absolutely sick to his stomach. "I did not expect you to arrive so soon!"

**'I'm sure you were **_**hoping**_** for that to punish **_**me**_** with **_**his**_** presence!'** snarked the younger male coldly in his head, narrowing his eyes. **'****Any****time **_**I**_** get home earlier than usual after unloading the produce and doing errands for the Gotarutsus' bodega, **_**you**_** tell me **_**I'm**_** just being **_**lazy**_**!'**

"Ah, well…" Kage purred as he sat down on the nineteen-year-old's cushion, not even bothering to regard how much he was angering the nineteen-year-old with his disrespectful demeanour and refusal to regard his wrongful actions. "Work let me out early again. Too many staff today and all…" He shook his head, crossing his arms (pretending to be sage-like) as he grumbled, "You cannot _believe_ how _incompetent_ the managers are- I bet I could do simple work schedules _much_ better than them!"

She smiled back tenderly. "You work hard. I cannot imagine they are not considering a promotion for you."

**'What does she **_**see**_** in him!?'** thought the nineteen-year-old bitterly as he kept his narrowed eyes set on the man as he smiled appreciatively back while his mother brightened more. **'His **_**over-bloated**_** ego is nothing to **_**swoon**_** at- and he **_**clearly**_** is disregarding the fact it's a **_**busy**_** season! A fucking, **_**busy**_**, **_**season**_**!' **He sneered silently towards the man, crossing his arms as he sniffed. **'Does he even think about these factors before blurting these ridiculous **_**statements**_** out!?'**

"Hopefully…" drawled the scumbag mindfully, frowning as his ebony eyes narrowed. "I could do it if they actually _gave_ me an opportunity." He threw up his hands to shrug noncommittally and tutted, "It's like they don't trust me… or there's some _other_ sorry excuse they've refrained from informing me about. Can't they just tell it to me _straight_?" He thumped a hand to his chest, raising his chin up as he snorted, "_I'm_ a guy who could take it!"

**'Oh **_**wow**_**, I **_**wonder**_** why they **_**don't**_** trust you yet...' **The near adult rolled his eyes during his mental scoff as he pressed his back to the front door, feeling his shoulders go rigid at the syrupy bullshit he was hearing. **'**_**Surely**_** you deserve **_**so much more recognition**_** so your head can **_**finally**_** blow off your neck from **_**all**_** the testosterone they're pumping through your _damn_ system!'**

It would be _glorious_ if it did happen. There would be one less scumbag in the world… and his mother finally could be freed from being blinded by her stupid attraction to that _swine_.

The man paused, cocking his head towards the blond questioningly. "Are you just going to stand there? Your legs must be achy from not resting for so long…" He twisted to face the younger male better, jerking his head to the cushion belonging to the younger male's mother pointedly. "Won't hurt for you to-"

Instantly, the near adult was miffed.

"_I'm_ _fine_," he bit out sharply, averting his gaze.

"You sure?" the man japed annoyingly. "No one's taking your mother's spot right now…"

**'Because you're taking **_**my**_** spot!"**

"I'm perfectly fine here," sniffed the younger male dismissively, earning a sharp look from his mother. "Just… continue with yourselves and don't mind me…"

"We could always bring out another cushion?" suggested his mother perkily, smiling at him warmly but all the younger male saw was the raw, ugly annoyance gleaming in her disappointed gaze for him. "We could all sit down and have a nice conversation together-"

The only _other_ cushion was the younger male's father's...

Coldly adopting a pleasant smile, two could play that game. "It got stained earlier," he returned sweetly with innocence, receiving a look of alarm from the scumbag and accusation burning back at him now from his mother. "I was trying to get it out earlier when I had to leave for work… Since it _is_ the busy season and all, Mr. and Mrs. Gotarutsu _really_ need my help lately."

...At least the last statement he told them was true; his muscles did twinge from the memory of all the heavy lifting the old couple had him doing.

* * *

_"Thanks for the great help!" hooted Mrs. Gotarutsu warmly as the younger man was setting down the last crate. "That is the last one, hon!"_

_"We would not have gotten it done without you!" added her husband with a wheeze of laughter._

_"He _is_ Marusaro's son after all!" murmured Mrs. Gotarutsu with glee, clasping her wrinkly hands together tenderly as she went on to reminisce, "You do not find young men as efficient and diligent as Marusaro was when he wandered on over from Kyoto unless you search for his only atotsugi."_

_"Then we got the luck of the draw, I suppose!" guffawed Mr. Gatarutsu as his head snapped back to bellow more hearty, wheezy laughs. "_Hahaha_…"_

_"And to think all that Marusaro used to do was twiddle a needle and thread at his father and mother's textile shop until he branched over to us in Shibuya!" hummed the old lady with a happy sigh. "I still have all those cushions he used to make for us… and I cannot find it within my heart to separate myself from them."_

_"Then _we_ turned him into the vigorous man who brought his son into the world to stumble upon us again!" The old man clapped jovially as he shot a look to the youngest among them and gave the young man a big grin with his yellowed, half-intact teeth._

_"Our _greatest_ achievement- we created a legend!" bellowed the old lady as she wiped away a single tear before she sniffled happily._

_"Now we got to work from the ground up with his son!" continued her husband boastfully with a knowing nod._

_"I think he is turning out quite nicely…" Mrs. Gotarutsu murmured warmly, nodding with a hum, "_Mmm_, look at those biceps he is sporting already!"_

_The young man smiled small, shaking his head in good nature of their pleasant jabs towards him._

_"_Oh_, sorry about that!" bellowed Mr. Gotarutsu with wheezy laughs when he appeared to remember the young man they were talking about was still with them. "Just our _oldster _talk you youngsters probably do not care for hearing, _eheh-hahah_…"_

_"N-Not a problem…" he replied with a polite nod. "It's always nice to hear stories of my father."_

_"_Oh_ do not be _coy_, we _all_ know we _jibber jabber_ too much for our own good!" fussed Mrs. Gotarutsu, a playful light in her eyes that crinkled at him._

_"No, no…" he protested sheepishly with a little chuckle, shaking his head briefly. "I'm always welcome to a pleasant conversation, so I don't mind at all."_

_"_Pah_\- do not be so _coy_ I said!" she scolded with a hearty slap to her knee, laughing hard as the young man merely again chuckled at that. "You have to have a spine to lean on, or you will just fall apart one day!"_

_"How about you go home, son." The old man walked up as the young man was about to go and close up the waiting pickup truck. "You _deserve_ it."_

_All the young man did was shy away when a hand landed on his shoulder, feeling uncomfortable at the sensation of the weight and unwelcome familiarity. "It was really nothing… I was just doing my job."_

_"No, no- we _insist_!" Mrs. Gotarutsu snapped. "We still are kicking and biting! And working you to your grave is not in the job description we promised you when you came to look for work."_

_"And you certainly need a break!" also insisted her husband as he stepped back, turning the young man around. "Now _git_!" He lightly shoved the younger man before wheezily letting out another laugh. "Hahaha… no need for you to fuss over our brittle bones!"_

_"I-If you don't need any more help, I-I suppose I could…" he murmured in defeat, raising a hand up to wave. "I'll be in by six again!"_

_"_Bah_\- come at seven!" yelled Mr. Gotarutsu wheezily in mockful frustration. "You got to get some sleep in, you _silly_ little owl, or you will be of no use to our happy bodega if someone mistakes you for the persimmons when checking out!"_

_"_Okay_, _okay_\- _seven_ then," he said mildly with a nod as he turned to bow goodbye. "Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Gotarutsu."_

_He turned to continue ambling away as the married couple happily chimed back hollers in return, "And thank you for your time! Say hi to Amaya-san for us!"_

_"I will! Thank you..."_

* * *

He lowered his head. "I only got home not too long ago when mother needed my help, so I didn't have time to clean it…" He bowed, forcing as much regret he could muster into his voice. "I'm sorry for only bringing it up now…"

When standing normally again, the younger male noticed that while his mother didn't look convinced, the scumbag slowly nodded with widened eyes as he spoke, "You _did_ say the cushions were your wedding gifts from your inlaws, Amaya-chan…" He promptly smiled appraisingly at the younger male, but that served to make him feel contaminated and ill. They shared narrowed eyes with each other before the scumbag went on grandiloquently, "Heirlooms _deserve_ the best care and attention, especially when such textile work cannot be replicated now in our day and age!" He patted the younger male's cushion tenderly with a content 'uh-huh' before he clasped his hands on the old chabudai. "_Surely_ we can suffice without it while Ji-Ji works his magic to restore it to normal."

The youngest shook his head. "I doubt my progress will do so alone. I think we'll need professional expertise if we don't want it to stay like that," added the younger male while cheering over the excellent progression of his performance. "And I know just the place to go- Mrs. Gotarutsu mentioned it once when she told me about how their chabudai broke during one of their meals and ruined the cushions father made them once!" He twirled his thoughts around, trying to remember the exact place before he exclaimed, "It may be on the other side of Shibuya- but I could make it if I go now!"

**'I better get some respect and regard from this stunt-' **he thought impatiently in gloating, fighting the smile trying to worm onto his face to stop it from ruining his ruse. **'I'm **_**not**_** going to let that scumbag cram his way in and cement his place at the table or steal our spots, father! **_**Even**_** if I'm going on a pointless crusade to do so…'**

"Ah, _good_ on you!" hummed the scumbag jovially as he grinned at the younger male's mother. "It's a good thing he didn't forget about it, right, Amaya-chan?"

She looked flustered by that as she stuttered out, "O-Of course, I do not want it to remain ruined…" She gaped like a fish out of water and glanced at him helplessly but the younger male sharpened his gaze, not willing to lend a hand when she was slighting him minutes ago. At least this invited her to try and figure out a way to show that she still held love towards him, and she had no choice now to weasel out of this when her attempts to appear perfect in front of this scumbag was her own fault!

He flattened his lip, starting to feel nervous that she may ignore the opportunity and fuss about the cushion instead when she finally gasped out, "A-And it makes it easier to leave him alone _without_ worrying he will stumble into trouble-"

**'Y-You just described a little kid, mother,' **he thought with a pang of hurt and disappointment, wilting promptly. **'Give me **_**more**_** credit for once… **_**Am**_** I r-really that **_**schlocky**_** to you that you think of me as th-**_**that**_**? A-A **_**child**_**!?' **He refused to cry right now despite how much it wanted to spill out from him. **'D-Do you e-even **_**love**_** me anymore…?'**

"Mm-_hmm_!" hummed the man in agreement, too busy to notice the obvious strain between mother and son. "So _responsible_!"

She didn't seem to notice how much those words wounded her son from the looks of it, grinning too hard back to the man she _thought_ she loved. "Y-Yes!"

...Perhaps she was right. She _wanted_ him gone, just to chase after this _sleazy_ man because she saw her _own_ son as nothing but a spoiled _brat_!

He started to feel his hackles rise, breathing in and out harshly before he desperately tried to smother it down and tried his hardest to refocus. He wanted to protect her for his father, but it was clear she didn't care what he did because she _wanted_ him gone!

Tonight.

After this shitshow he was putting on for them, the young man would gather whatever he could and go. Already his heart protested and insisted on remembering his father's last words, but right now-

He couldn't stand this woman enough to care!

Why protect someone who didn't want protecting!? Why care when they didn't give a shit about you!?

**'I'm **_**sorry**_**, father… I can't do this anymore****.'**

_Tonight_\- after _tonight_\- he'll grant her her _goddamn_ wish!

Sighing, pressing back his seething for later, he managed to point his thumb backwards at the front door in a helpful manner instead of blowing up. He quickly cut in, wanting to leave as soon as he could to not look at his mother any longer after the bullshit she just pulled, "Then how about I drop on by before it sets in?"

If the world wants to burn… _let_ _it_ _burn_.

He hastily started for the built-in cabinet to retrieve it, failing to ignore meeting his mother's ebony eyes. She pursed her lips at once, mouthing to him timidly with apologetic eyes, but he turned away not caring how she realized that she said the wrong thing. It wasn't _his_ fault _she_ wasn't considerate enough to catch on to these cues… wringing out his heart to leave it cold and bitter for not wanting anything else from her if she actually tried to redeem herself right now. For all he cared, she should have cared about how she said the right thing instead of pretending she cared enough to realize she said the wrong thing… Because this woman didn't _care_ about her only offspring!

Upon opening the narrow cabinet, he wrinkled his nose before freezing. **'What the-' **His livid thoughts tapered to an abrupt halt upon catching a whiff of the unmistakable harsh odour of spoiled alcohol. But not just _any_ alcohol; it still held out with its sweetness intact from those of plums.

Why did the cabinet smell like _umeshu_!? They never had alcohol in the house ever- not even before he was born! Then why the _hell_ was there umeshu _stinking_ the _damn_ cabinet up!?

He angrily inspected the cabinet cautiously, soon pinpointing the source to the very item he was hoping to protect. His breathing stopped, feeling lightheaded as he stared, finding it impossible to move, at the dark stain _tarnishing_ it! Someone spilled red umeshu on it- the usual light-coloured wine couldn't have left such a damn obvious footprint behind! The intricately designed cushion haphazardly was ready to jump onto his head from the second highest shelf, not resting in dormant on the top one where he had hoped it would never be disturbed again forever…

This was his father's cushion, dammit! The one he sat at the middle of the table on to flank his son and wife as they gave their thanks every day before beginning their late meals. The cushion that he sat on while tutoring his agotsugi in school to outperform and outwit his classmates, sometimes extending into all-nighter lessons. The younger would never regret attending them as he excelled brilliantly and was the head student of nearly all his classes…

And it was the cushion his father wilted unexpectedly one night on after returning from their trip to Kyoto to visit the young boy's grandparents…

In the middle of a deep conversation about the twelve-year-old's potential career paths he could pursue, the prevously beaming man went ghostly pale and grimaced before coughing out blood onto his son's perfect grade transcript and spittered further across the chubudai's surface. He couldn't make a good enough excuse to settle their alarm as blood streamed out upon puking scarlet in front of his horrorfied son's eyes, who couldn't process why this was happening…

It was the last place his father was sitting when releasing his last breath…

The sound of his father's chuckle softening to raspy, empty air before stilling; the young boy trembling as his father's hand on his shoulder slackened and refused to look away as glinting mossy green eyes dulled right before him; surfaced now. It soaked into his racing, punctured thoughts as the same boy, nineteen currently, stuttered out a breath,** 'Wh-Why…?'**

His hands trembled, numbly reaching for it as his vision blurred, and felt his face go blank. **'Wh-**_**Why**_**…?'** Slowly he glowered the longer he smelled the pungent stench and his eyes zeroed in on to the blemishing blotch on the intricately woven fabric. **'We _haven't_ touched it since he died... Wh-Who could have done this!? D-Don't tell me someone broke and entered our home- j-just to drink damn umeshu on father's cushion! Wh-Who **_**did**_** this!?'**

As vomit started to rise into his mouth, upon the sound of the scumbag drumming his fingers on the table, furtively glancing his way from time to time to him in the corner of his gaze, the younger male was broken out of his thoughts to bristle.

That scumbag was a rotten _bastard_!

No wonder the older male thought it was fine and dandy that the younger mentioned his father's stained cushion… it then gave the scumbag the leeway to try to carefully divert how he was to blame to escape disfavour from the younger male's mother! _Seriously_… if that _bastard_ thought he could whittle away and walk out smug and freely… he had _another_ fucking thing coming to him!

"I don't know how it could have happened," the younger began slowly, trying to make his voice sound nonplussed and oblivious to a fault. He held the cushion tenderly, shoving down all urges to smother his face with it to yell his fury over what that man had done to it or sob uncontrollably from distraught to simply muse shakily, "W-We haven't taken it out since he _passed_\- y-yet I _don't_ see how it's reeking _currently_ from umeshu!?"

His mother started in horror. "_Umeshu_!?"

"Oh _my_-" yelped the scumbag in disbelief, but the younger seethed that going the innocent route instead of owning up to his damn actions was just utter loathful cowardice! "C-Careful with the alcohol next time, Ji-Ji-" he started to laugh blithely, only to turn sheepish when the younger male and his mother shot glares at him. "Wh-What?"

"This is _not_ a joking matter, Kage!" she shrieked in appall, turning her blazed eyes to her son. "How _could_ you-"

"But how _could_ I drink when I'm _only_ nineteen?" the younger countered in shock and hurt as he shifted his eyes to the ruined cushion then to his mother angrily. "I've never gone into a saka-ya, and you know how father felt about it-" He tightened his hold, feeling repulsed at the stickiness the cushion held now. "We never had alcohol in this damn house, _mother_, _honest_ to all my ancestors who may be _witness_ to me _now_!

She flinched. "I-I did not mean to-"

He didn't want to _hear_ the rest of it! "So I don't understand how it could have gotten soiled like this- h-how- W-_Why_!?"

With a sorrowful scowl to his mother, she nodded slowly as her eyes watered, frowning in horror. "It is illegal for you to drink-"

"I know _that_!" he roared in distraught as he sneered at her frigidly, "I _know_ my age for crying out loud unlike _someone_ I know!"

She widened her eyes as if he slapped her, and all he did was siphon the moment and savour her expression as he coldly flickered his eyes away from that disgusting woman.

The previously celebrating man blanched and stiffened. "A-Are you sure you had no one visit, o-or-"

"No one!" spat the younger man, glaring darkly at the floundering man. "No one… but _you_!"

If this was the last time the younger man would speak to either of these morons, he would at least make the scumbag suffocate in the flames the younger would beset between them now.

The fourty-eight-year-old woman immediately opened her mouth, only to freeze up as her ebony eyes widened. The younger sharpened his eyes, challenging her to make any excuse to discount the hard evidence he had thrown on the table, then lowered his gaze to the cushion as he staggered to the door.

He felt lightheaded, his ears roaring with blood as he pushed the door open, stiffly sliding his slippers off to situate them next to the door before traversing to his dark brown and white-bottomed tiger sneakers with cream stripes. Even as he placed them on, he refused to let father's cushion go…

"You better get a coat, Ji-Ji, it's-"

Immediately, he whipped to the scumbag peeking through the shoji and snapped loudly, "Leave me be, you _bastard_!" He raggedly breathed as he surged to the door, watching the scumbag cringe back before the younger man slammed the door in his face. "You've done enough _damage_\- _dammit_!"

Huffing, he went to do up his shoes on before stepping off the genken. He held the cushion tenderly as he reminded himself it was nearly 4 PM… he had to sprint or hit the toei bus right if he were to make it to the shop in time. Pushing hard on his feet, he jogged away from the woman's sukiya-zukuri only to pause to open the gate and turn the corner and force his body through the narrow space between the scumbag's stupid junkmoble and the fence.

As he sprinted down the sidewalk, allowing himself to finally fume freely about that bastard, something wet hit him. Gawking to the sky as he slowed to a brief jog, he noticed dark clouds were blocking the previously fluffy white that had been blotting it when he got home.

Of _course_ it would be fucking raining at a time like this!

Shaking his head, he pushed hard on his feet, not wanting to go back and waste time and lose his dignity over going back for a jacket after ignoring the scumbag's warning. It wasn't an excuse he was going to let that bastard have for redeeming himself after misshapenly abusing his father's cushion!

Upon hearing a familiar exhaust groan behind him, his heart softened for a moment to cheer at the arriving toei bus. **'Haha- Right on schedule!' **he thought in relief, only to hear a horn honking. He stopped, turning to see the junkmoble rolling down the road, blocking the near adult's path to the bus. **'**_**Fuck**_**-'**

"Ji-Ji-" yelled the bastard as his smokey grey hunk of junk halted as the nineteen-year-old's saving grace flew on by, making the younger male bristle and glower at the scumbag who rode close to the left lane's curb. Right away, the nineteen-year-old started sprinting again, _away_ from the scumbag grumpily as the man called out in dismay, "I know you're mad right now… but-"

"You made me _miss_ the bus!" snapped the younger male as he kept his narrowed gaze forward. "Go _back_ and _enjoy_ your date with that _woman_!"

The scumbag's smile faded into a deep frown. "_Look_, I went out for you even though I _know_ you hate me... So, why don't _we_ go for a ride in the car… just you and me…?"

"What makes _you_ think I'd get into your shitty Cherry, _bastard_?" retorted the younger male as he pushed himself to run harder, ignoring how the said car revved with a sputter and sped up from behind him.

"It _is_ raining, and we don't want your mother scared half to death about her son foolishly dying from staying out in the mere cold, now would we?" asked the scumbag pointedly, making the younger one scoff and refuse to stop moving away. "Come on, who knows if the stain will still be cleanable if you run out of breath and stagger half the way?"

_Dammit_\- that scumbag had a point!

The near adult felt more rain fall down, his chest constricting physically and from his conflicted heart crying for rest and screaming at him to keep going and stay away from that Cherry… Yet, his eyes burned at the thought of not making it before the umeshu remained and his throat ached from how acid from overexertion threatened to crawl out of it.

But… what if it was the only way?

His mind was the last one screaming at him to run away and keep his distance from the bastard and not be a moron when he stopped, waiting for the scumbag to unlock the door for the front passenger seat before climbing into the goddamn junkomoble. It continued screaming even as he numbly whimpered out the address of the shop before letting himself cradle his father's cushion in his lap as the older man started up his Cherry again before it drove off with the two males. He could have sworn he saw a couple of dark wisps escaping from the Cherry's hood as they reentered light traffic, only to finally soothe his crying mind that it was to be expected from the bastard's junkmoble as the young male preoccupied himself with ignoring the scumbag beside him.

Even at the odds turning in his favour to eat his dignity for the sake of saving his father's cushion, a rock hard ache in his side told him he should have just run.

* * *

**To be continued… hope you enjoyed the chapter. =3**


	2. Mr Sadist

**Mr. Reaper**

**I do not own The World Ends With You, Square Enix does!**

**Mr. Reaper Part 1 was written as a one-shot for Twelve Shots of Summer: Hexa-Code-Kernal - Week 10...**

**Subsequent chapters may or may not reflect the same disclaimer format as seen above and will receive author notes when applicable.**

**...**

**1 - Mr. Sadist**

* * *

**One week later…**

* * *

Walking up to the front shoji, the nineteen-year-old stared at the door for a minute before retrieving his keys. He fumbled with them, soon managing to press the right one in when he found it and pulled the sliding door open.

"I'm home!" he called out instinctively, standing for a long moment then felt hollow when he received nothing in return. He knelt down, undoing his shoelaces slowly to savour the feeling as he pulled each one off, moving to put slippers on... but didn't in the end. He quietly stepped in, shutting the door slowly.

He watched how his mother and Kage were conversing; paying him no mind… Inhaling gradually, he started to glance around.

His mother (he used to see her as) was frowning, her hands clasped on the cubudai, her head bowed. Kage- on the other hand- was smiling slightly, albeit forced, as he sat on a new shabby cushion he shifted constantly on… Must have been bought at a second-hand shop, the younger male supposed bitterly. It didn't have the good quality as the ones his father and grandparents from Kyoto made, but it was doing a great job at annoying that scumbag. Now _that_ was the only redeeming quality it had! At least, his spot wasn't taken for once...

The younger male walked around them on the ivory tatsumi, actively pushing himself to ignore them. He was none too eager to get their attention- not that he would- and made for his room.

Just as he was moving his hand to the shoji door, he halted upon hearing Kage grunt, "I-I'll see you tomorrow, Amaya-chan!"

"R-Right!" she hesitantly chirped.

The young man turned to watch with the woman as the man scooped up his cushion, probably on probation with their cushions after the umeshu stain ordeal, moving to the front door only to pause when the younger man noticed it was still open. It was a second later that the man slid through the crack of the door and shut it this time around, and the younger man soon watched as the charcoal black haired woman slowly rose.

As she went to the front door, the young man turned back to open his room's shoji door when he paused to firmly touch the door. When his fingers felt the elaborate paper, he slowly eased it open only to panic when the lock sounded behind him before shoving the shoji open. He cringed upon hearing the door banging on the stopper and went rigid.

"Who is there!?" the woman shrieked in alarm.

Her previous son dove into the room, knowing it was too late now to close it without detection.

He hurried to shield himself against the shoji on his side of the room, scolding himself for his decision to return home and freezing when soft footfalls moved in his direction. As he watched the woman halt in the doorway, he stilled his breath and observed her fearful eyes as they flickered around his side of the neatly organized room. She stood motionless as she rested her hands, one slightly over the other, over her heart. "I-I could have sworn…"

When she edged forward, her face unreadable once she was further away from him, he slowly tiptoed sideways until he backed into the main room. When he felt the tatsumi under his bare feet again, he spun around to bolt for the front door. He cursed when he began fumbling with the lock, trying harder until he yanked it open and stumbled onto the genken.

He immediately knelt to put his socks and favourite trainers back on, standing up and started to lunge forward into a run- only to hear her call out with a crack in her voice, "I-Is that you?" His breath hitched as he stopped, not daring to move as he heard her reenter the room behind him with unequal steps. "M-M-My _s-son_!?"

Smiling bitterly at the cursed title she seemed to cling to, chuckling humourlessly to himself, he allowed himself to be silent. She said no more, probably waiting on him to face her for the first time since he stormed out…

But why would she care _now_ when she finally got her break from him?

His heart tugged immediately, yearning for interaction with her...

Fairly soon, he found himself betraying the plan he had to just drop on by to hollowly regard her instead. "Yeah, it's me." He tried to push as much energy as he could into his body, hearing her breath hitch as he met her gaze sharply and bowed in greeting. "I didn't mean to intrude," he mumbled as he rose back up, looking away as he frowned when hearing her breath stutter for some reason. "I'll see myself out."

"It _is_ you…" she murmured breathlessly and he shrugged slightly at that. "H-How-"

"Look, it was a poor choice on my part to come back," he said coolly, turning to go when she shouted in protest. "You don't want me here, and I understand I should remove myself from your premises before I cause you more trouble-"

"N-No- do not go-"

"I am only _doing_ what any _child_ should do, after all..." he hissed with a roll of his eyes, continuing with as much venom he could weave into his curt voice, "_Listening_ to their parents' word." She nearly cut in again when he added tartly in deride, "So, what do you want _now_?"

"To know wh-what happened..." she responded weakly in a keen. This caused his eyes to widen, his body to seize as numbness started to overwhelm it and his heart rate sped up. "I-I only heard it from Kage, but it makes no sense-"

"That it _happened_? That you're not _happy_ even though I heeded _your_ word?" he sneered icily with a sharp scoff after managing to tug himself out of his near anxiety attack. He let the words ring between them, soon snarling bitterly as he swerved back to lock gazes with her and glowered hard, "Be _happy_ already for damn sake- You _don't_ have to deal with me anymore, woman! You have nothing to hold you back from having your fucking _happy_ ending with that _scumbag_!"

"N-No…" she whimpered, stepping quietly his way as she went on, "I-I want to know what h-_happened_."

He snapped sharply as he bristled, "I _don't_ know! If you want to _hear_ it from someone you _actually_ listen to, why not badger _your_ boyfriend!?" He turned, trying to pull himself back and heard the woman shriek in alarm. "He knows all the answers to fill your _empty_ head with! Why bother me when you don't _need_ to!?"

"But I _want_ to hear it from you-"

"When _have_ you wanted to listen to me before!?" he yelled furiously, feeling tears well up in his eyes. "You _never_ listened to me… and now you _never_ will."

"P-Please…" she pleaded in a sob, folding her hands over each other again against her chest. "I _want_ to listen…"

"You blew that opportunity…" he sneered coldly, shaking his head as he backed away. "_Nothing_ will make up for the pain you put me through…"

When she approached him more with despair in her gaze, he tugged on himself harder, desperate to escape as stress was coursing through every inch of his body now. "I _loved_ you_-_ and all you did to reciprocate that love was of spite to the son who wanted to do _everything_ to make sure you were safe." He raised his voice in distraught as he tried to distance himself from her, barely holding himself together the longer he was near her. "What _he_ thought was right!"

This was a mistake… What was he thinking!? He had to leave now!

"C-Come back…" she murmured with hopelessness, her face twisted with grief. "M-My son… p-please _come_ back-" Her voice grew raw as he narrowed his eyes to slits. "I am _sorry_…"

"I can't do that," he sniffed curtly, finally tugging himself back entirely and kept his stony gaze on her. As she frantically called out for him shrilly, he stretched his restored appendages. Upon feeling a crick in them, he proceeded to flap them to push the pain out.

Flattening his lips, he turned to walk to the edge of the genken where he slowly fanned out his wings.

"Not when I'm dead."

* * *

**Seven weeks later...**

* * *

The sky was _gorgeous_ today…

A rich cerulean that yawned for miles, only spotted once and awhile with innocent, white clouds… And- of course- _excellent_ weather for air travel.

He shifted his flight path to avoid a particularly fleecy cloud, rolling before flapping his intricately webbed wings to regain his stability in the air. _**'That **__**was**_** close,'** he thought in relief, glancing over his shoulder briefly then kept his eyes on the sky in front of him again. **'Would have caused a backlog, and I **_**definitely**_** don't need that right now.'**

Skimming his gaze across the area below him, he slightly twitched his wings as he followed the route he was given for the Mission today. It was his last chance before his target was open for everyone to dig into tomorrow, and he damn _had_ to make sure _no one _screwed with their work...

"Now, where are you…?" he drawled mindfully. He rode on a gentle breeze as he glanced more, feeling his earlier frustration build up as he saw no sign of them. "Come out, come out, wherever _you_ are…"

He carefully diverted his path to flutter lower to the ground, soon spotting a low, half-built skyscraper coming up and sighed. He shifted his wings, fluttering as he moved his feet before feeling himself land with a slight step or two to catch himself from vaulting over the edge. He drew his wings closer together when he was safe and knelt down to observe his general surroundings.

With three Pacts remaining for this Week, he hoped the vultures hadn't gotten to the one he was eyeing to try. He scowled at the thought, searching harder as he wondered what the delay was with-

Wait a second...

_There_ we go!

Adrenaline surged through the Harrier Reaper and a grin immediately spread across his face, letting him feel alive as he rose up just for a few seconds before pushing off the rim to jet to the ground. Upon landing precisely in front of the hurrying pair, their twin cries of shock made him chuckle internally in amusement as he swiftly spun on his heel to stand tall to face the startled Pact. To spice it up a _little_ more, he decided to alter his demeanor to a mild excitement... just to save his gloating for later.

"Hello again~" he supplied glibly with a slight smirk. "Miss me?"

"_Goddamn_ it!" shouted the buffer of the two- the target- who bristled at him. "No matter where we go, you're chasin' after us! Why can't we jus' lose you for once!?" The Reaper received a glare from him afterwards, while the other tensed with his regular fear enveloping his expression.

How cute.

**'Because I'm smarter than you, **_**brainiac**_**…' **He narrowed his eyes tersely. **'Grow a brain, then **_**maybe**_** you would!'**

The Reaper allowed himself to shrug and held it for a few prolonged moments, casually fluttering his medium-sized wings to avoid getting more annoying cricks in them. He had _no_ idea wings could get so stiff if you didn't take the time to allow them to breathe... so to speak. Already he knew the tribulations of forgetting to flex or stretch them with the memory of Players laughing at him entering his mind, of the muscle pulls chancing his wings when he was about to sic Noise on his 'meals' that day. It took a while to realize sporting arrogance and overconfidence to disguise his need of stretching his wings to avoid humiliation again was the best decision he made. Especially... if he didn't want to hop about like a damn ballerina now in front of _this_ Pact.

As he soon relaxed his stance while releasing a groan of contentment, he crossed his arms as he retorted curtly, "_Lose_ me?" He unfolded them and held them widely open, whisking them as he made his voice lighten up. "Now that's just sad. I was looking _forward_ to seeing you two again."

When they gave him flat looks, he dropped his arms, smiling slightly for a moment before flattening his lips. He shook his head, giving a sigh as he pointed to them matter-of-factly, "If you actually _were_ to lose me, which worked for a while somehow- mind you- you would have tried even _harder_ to finish your Mission today. At least tomorrow-" He snapped his fingers as he darkly crowed, "You would have met my friends... _mano-a-mano_!" He whisked the same hand's fingers in a slight circle as he tested that new Spanish saying he learned… even though he found out later it may have been Latin, but that _doesn't_ matter right now!

One good thing about being a Reaper… even if the posh bastard grilled you to go out to do your daily grind and try to 'eat', you can still sit back at the Barracks in the literal River of Styx of Shibuya and be an egghead to learn a language or two! Mind you- being an egghead was the _nicest_, _correct_ way to put it if you actually focused on the word itself instead of the insult- if social interaction with those who knew the language was not for your delicate palate.

"'Hand to hand'? _Mano-a-mano_?" he mockingly pressed, tilting his head briefly before intentionally jumping at the 'not so obvious thing they don't know oh no how scandalous they don't know it' in disbelief to mess with them. He recoiled himself back, shaking his head. "Seriously!? Don't tell me you _don't_ know Spanish, it was a kick to learn!"

When you _knew_ how to study properly like _he_ did! He left that part out intentionally to not make himself seem more annoying than he wanted to be perceived. Even with his mindset when he was in the thrill of the hunt, he _had_ standards to stick to.

It only took him half a week with a Spanish Reaper to curb off the rough edges he had after juggling with a flimsy Japanese-to-Spanish dictionary a Week before. French, on the other hand, was on hold for his to do list because he had to tutor his friend in Japanese to become better comprehensible to the Underground.

...But the posh bastard didn't have to act so _high_ and _mighty_ that the Harrier Reaper was the only one to pick up the slack when no one vouched to lend a hand to his friend! It wasn't that much of a big deal... They had been in a Pact together, so why not educate his former Partner away from the piss-poor effort of speaking the language so far and culture it to near perfection?

Oh right- Pacts! He had to focus on _this_ Pact right now.

When the frightened one kept staring at him incredulously, the other only snorted out with annoyance in response to the Reaper's great wisdom of how they fucked up their evasion of him.

The Reaper simply tutted at that, rolling his eyes at how these morons were going to be child's play now, "But, seeing as you chose to smell the roses-" He started to circle them in a lazy side-stepping fashion, placing a hand on his chin when he got halfway around to halt. He clicked his tongue as he went on, "_Meandering_ and not _going_ the extra _mile_…" Releasing his chin now, his hand bobbed towards them as he snarked, "You made it perfectly _easy_ to find yourselves…" He crisply smiled in amusement; _goading_ _time_. "So, how _did_ you expect to _hide_ from me?"

"You won't stop following us- so what do _you_ expect from us!?" cried the fearful one of the Pact... hold on- was that spunk in his voice!? Hmm... now _that_ one was taking his liquid bravado in morning? _Interesting_ development... Too bad it was so late in the Week for that to come out in the Player when it was time for the Reaper to actually dig his claws into this Pact.

The Reaper paid the male no more mind as he drew out his blank paper and sent a little of his energy to get its pulse started. As he felt the sensation of Noise Symbols appearing to squirm about on its surface, he idly drew in another just to spruce up the fun. What? He wanted to make sure his target _was_ Erased this time.

"What's your problem!?" shouted the now agitated Player as their voice retracted into apprehension; the Reaper guessed the poor soul had spotted the paper no doubt. "J-Just leave us be!"

"Oh, I'm not bothering _you_, so chill out about my pleasant visits with you guys," the Reaper said with a huff, pausing for that effect of wooing the crowd- per say- before coldly explaining, "I'm afraid it's not _your_ fault you had to be handcuffed to this wrongdoer."

As he spotted his target recoiling, the Reaper shook his head while softening his gaze to the Player. "Your Partner hasn't been very truthful, you see… Didn't he tell you how he was a delivery boy under the head for an illegal firearm trafficking scheme? It was hard to explain over these past five- or six, if you already total it up for today- days when you've just been _running_ and _running_ away before I said my piece. Which is why I literally _have_ been chasing you two down." He stepped forward, opening his arms as he frowned sincerely this time. "Just step aside and look for a new Partner… okay? I promise this will not take long."

"What!?" The Player sharply faced the wrongdoer. "Don't tell me that's why-"

"This Reaper 'as been gettin' under our skin these last few days," said the wrongdoer nonchalantly. "Don't listen to 'im, Giro, 'e's lyin' to you. We jus' gotta show 'im we're not scared of loony flyboy 'ere again, and we can finally get on wit' the Mission like last time."

**'Oh, the **_**typical**_** slander to shift blame.' **The Reaper slowly smirked from under his hood. **'**_**That**_** defence mechanism will not make my Noise part ways for you…'** He pushed himself from the ground, shooting into the air and hovered with a few flaps of his intricately-webbed wings. "So, you think I'm just messing around, huh? _Well_, I doubt you'll be singing to the same tune after this-" The Harrier chuckled a little after speaking, soon lowering his tone dangerously. "Not that you _will_... because I know you'll not survive this time!"

The Reaper smirked harder. "_Trust me_."

Immediately sending a surge of energy straight into the sheet, he watched the static dance across the surface and slog off onto the ground nearby the Player and wrongdoer's feet. "This is your cue to run, Player," the Reaper called down with a weary shrug, observing the Player backing away in fright as the static altered into frantically moulding light that crackled while swelling upwards. "It's not my fault the wrongdoer tagged you as his accomplice in our Game, so don't blame me if you're a sitting duck in a minute."

"You're fuckin' are goin' down after this!" roared the wrongdoer furiously, shaking a raised fist stiffly as his glare became a sneer.

"_Oh_, why are you lying when you _know_ you're in a pinch?" he chuckled as he saw his three wyvern Noise shuck off their staticky sheen. "Don't make promises you can't own up to-" As the Player screamed, the Noise charged forward at the Pact. "- then _maybe_ I wouldn't have dragged you into the Underground..."

The Reaper let himself flutter down as his target and the Player disappeared promptly with the Noise to their Plane, landing soundlessly as he started counting mentally. He barely got to twenty when rustic red particles burst in front of him, with silver and gold Yen Pins flipping as they scattered onto the ground nearby the Reaper's brown, cream and white shoes. The particles were bunching up together as the Player was spat out of the Noise Realm with a shriek, stunned before cringing when he faced the winged person alone this time.

As the Reaper sighed, he accepted the points with a mere whisk of his hand; the particles hovered close to his palm and thrummed irresistibly. A delicious meal for him to feast upon after a long run… _excellent_. He pointedly stared at the Player upon crushing the Points within his grasp, that revitalizing sensation entering his veins immediately. "See?"

"Y-You monster!" yelled out the Player, his body shuddering wildly. The Reaper merely started to amble around the road, kneeling to remove his ochre knapsack from his arms and intricate wings carefully. "Do you know what you've _done_!?" Once it thudded on the ground, he began zipping it open. "You _killed_ him!" The Reaper leaned down and started scooping up Yen Pins into both of his palms and shoved them into his bag quietly, hearing them ting against the others he had collected during his time in the Underground. "I don't know if he was a criminal or not, but he was _not_ a terrible person!"

"Not to _you_ at least," mumbled the Reaper with a huff, continuing to collect the fallen wrongdoer's Yen Pins. "A silvertongue will always become the bell of the ball and trumps who the true princess is with their wiles." He chanced a look, uncaring of how fearful the Player still was then shrugged. "I gave you a shot to not get caught up with him," supplied the Reaper matter-of-factly with a tsk. "Yet here you are: Partnerless… and not running for your survival."

The Player only made a squeak, incoherently replying as the Reaper went on, "Now, now… show me your left hand." The Reaper waved his own, rotating it palm up and curled his fingers a few times to gesture to the Player. "Come on, we don't have all day."

Flinching, the Player did so, timidly staring at the Reaper.

The Reaper quickly spotted the black timer on it then went on to explain with a tired sigh, "You have nearly lost two minutes now in your seven minute grace period. I suggest you run, _like_ I said, and tag another Partner if they're Pactless before it reaches zero." He turned his own left hand's palm to himself, tapping it with his right index finger impatiently. "I know how stressful this can be... so if you want, I can keep count for you."

Not that the Reaper needed that confirmation, he was already tracking the time after tapping his finger enough to get the beat right as he ceased the action. "_Five_ with thirty-five seconds…"

"...Wh-What are you talking about!?"

"Players gets seven minutes to get a new Partner," repeated the Reaper firmly, briskly walking up to the Player who edged back in alarm. The Reaper hooked his hands on the trembling Player's shoulders, spinning them around and shoved them forcefully, "You'll get an automatic Erasure if you don't- _so_ _get going_!"

The Player darted away, leaving the Reaper to watch their unsteady amscray for a few seconds before he heard the hard flaps of receding beats of wings. Another Reaper had landed on his low skyscraper perch from earlier, but he didn't need to check who it was. He sighed, cupping a hand to his mouth before shouting as he gazed up at them boredly, "Well, well… you're late."

"_Aoh_, shutt yaawr maoutth! AI caouldn'tt geitt mah wiings ta waorlk rlightt!" retorted his friend in frustration, said large-sized wings now twitching occasionally and bent closer to the tips. "Sttuupiid thiings gaott caaughtt ein aah chaain-rengtth fence when aI puurled mahself baack flom the Leargrround- aahnd _naow_ they'rre naott fllaapping rliughtt!"

Ooh... that _had_ to hurt. Andy should have been more careful and chosen a better location to return to the Underground from, because those little _oopsies_ were a literal pain to deal with...

"Sorry to hear that, but your meal is eager to not be on your plate today!" he retorted while crossing his arms. "Although you shouldn't be concerned, he's got less than five left." He huffed when adding, "But... I doubt he'll get far."

"Aaightt, terl me whaatt dirleccttshuon he's shuuttin' folr," his friend hollered back as the Reaper strained his ears to listen for the awkward footsteps disappearing in the distance. "AI'rl plraow the miiddrre ta aavaoiid the trlaaffic- yaa gao the hiigh aahnd laow aagaaiin- yaa _gaott_ eit?"

"Going northeast... running sloppily like a drunkard," noted the male Reaper; finishing with a nod to affirm their established pathfinding for the final leg of their hunt.

He walked back to his bag, swinging it and sliding his arms and folding his wings painfully through. After flapping his wings to test their range of motion, he noticed the Player was skirting on the spot where he shouldn't be right now. Fairly soon, the Player was trying to hightail it again and he grunted loudly back to his friend again, "How _does_ he expect to get away if he's _zigzagging_ like that?"

"Aaw… thaatt caotttenttairl _aain'tt_ gaoing baack ta the buurlaow aahftterr _aI_ baag him then! Heheh!"

"Not unless we _lose_ him…" he reminded his friend flatly. "I have to deter the vultures first, Andy."

"Yaa waorlry taa much aof the deettaails! _Sttaop_ thiinking, _maorre_ huntting them daown!"

"That's fine by me," he quietly shot back quickly before sprinting after the fleeing Player. **'Time to shine- let's put on a show!'**

The Reaper slowed to a jog when he saw Reapers looking the Player's way, waving frantically as he shouted to the vultures, "Andy's kill!" Immediately, the other Reapers backed away, turning as the Reaper kept going to shout to another crowd of Reapers, "Andy's kill!" The majority of the Reapers groaned in disappointment, yet the Reaper pressed on to another Reaper who was starting to dart forward. "Andy's kill!"

"_Andy_ can't claim them all!" yelled the Reaper angrily, whipping back to shove the younger Reaper away. As the manhandled male sighed in annoyance while steadying his footing from the stumble, the Reaper barked louder, "I've hardly gotten _any_ this week! Stand down now or you'll regret it!""

_This_ is what he had to put up with for his friend; dealing with stubborn asses like this because they _wanted_ to be difficult and _grouse_ about their losses by making _him_ suffer. They just didn't get it... he surmised as he rolled his eyes. Andy won't be happy about the delay...

"Oh _I'm_ sorry! Why don't you actually bust your _ass_ next Week then," he snarked back with a huff, leaning towards the sore loser to silently challenge him back and drive him out from invading the young male's personal space right now. "That's Andy's kill, _Buttercup_. Suck it!"

The Reaper furiously reached for him. "_Why_ you _fucker_-"

A sudden ricochet made that wise guy cringe with a yelp as ice burst over the pavement. The Harrier Reaper snaked around the fool slipping on the ice-field, standing clear of the pained topple then sniffed at the sight of the moaning moron. Looks like Andy was taking over the diplomacy now…

His friend landed roughly in a roll before springing over to shove a rifle in the downed Reaper's face; wagging it violently while crowing irritably, "AI jaust _ded_, _rlettaarrd_! Sttaop _sttaarling_ him- wee haave waolrk ta dao!"

"_Fuck_ you, Andy!" spat the bristling Reaper.

"_Fuuck_ yaa taa!"

The Reaper jogged again as his friend and the moron continued their bickering and flickered his gaze for the Player.

Three and thirty seconds…

He caught sight of the poor soul again as the Player sprung away from a disappearing glittering diamond-patterned Wall, bolting and unaware of how he was passing the same Reaper pursuing him. Was the Player _that_ dumb!? He was giving away his intended path of travel as he kept up with his panicky darting and had nearly three minutes left now!

"Haow's the caountt?" hollered his friend behind him. He turned to watch his fellow Reaper kick off the ground to grapple onto the side of the closest building, damaged wings beating recklessly to assist the climb. "Gaott ta rreaadjaustt mah view aaftterr thaatt rlettaalrd brraoke mah caoncenttrlaattiaon aahnd waas taangrling witth yaa!"

"Three and counting down."

"_Perlfectt_. Keep yaawrr eiyes aon him, bud! AI need aah beetterr spaott ta aaim flom!"

"Keep count and keep up chase?" he asked coolly with a head tilt as he watched his friend continue to crawl up the side of the building, hearing a grunt before running out to leave the shady street. "Got it." He called over his shoulder as he sped up, mentally reminding himself of the time, "I'm going to run interference for you, so hang tight and give me a signal so you don't miss."

"'_Scuuse_ _me_\- wheen _haave_ aI _evelr_ miissed _mah_ kiirls...?" came an unimpressed growl from above with a miffed sniff afterwards.

Instead of responding, the Reaper bunched his muscles as he felt the momentum was enough before vaulting over a hydrant and kicked his feet against it hard to hurl himself into the air again. He beat his wings as strong as he could to push himself higher, repeating the actions before he soared. He eased himself into beating his wings rapidly to keep his speed from faltering then allowed himself to hover on a current he found.

**'You** **never have… you never will, Andy,'** he finally answered with slight amusement, chuckling before looking down to relocate the Player. **'Two and twenty seconds…'**

It didn't take long until he watched Andy's target as he flew past him, soon stopping his wings meters away to plunge down to the ground. He started flapping erratically when he was closer to striking the cement to slow his fall, landing awkwardly with brief wild flaps. With a brief set of glances, he soon was running over and crying out to the nearby Support Reaper guarding the lane and the Scramble Crossing entrance, "Wall up- _now_!"

"But-" the man looked back to the opening to the heart of Shibuya and forth to the Harrier as he joined the red uniformed Reaper. "The Players _already_ cleared it!"

"For your information, my friend, a Pactless Player is incoming any _second_," retorted the backpack Reaper, leaning closer to add curtly, "_Andy's_ kill- mind you!"

"_What_!?" The Support froze, soon reanimating wildly to fumble with his Keypin. "Oh my god- _give_ me a second-"

As the Harrier impatiently watched him flounder, he heard sharp, uneven pounds on the cement before turning his attention to the Player who was coming into view. "Darse prisa-" He sharply turned his head back to hiss, "_Darse prisa_\- What are you _waiting_ for- get it up _already_!"

"I _am_!" snapped the red hoodie Reaper and the Harrier Reaper noticed a twinkle in the Support Reaper's palm. "_There_!"

The Reaper heard the Wall manifesting as the Player was shooting past. With a mere pivot, only to watch the poor soul bounce back with a cry of agony, the Harrier promptly looked at the stationed Reaper again. "...Much thanks."

He got a disgruntled grunt back, soon facing the Player again, ambling to them as they were trying to scramble to their feet.

The Reaper grabbed their left hand, tightening his hold as the Player tried yanking it back, and watched the black minute digit disappear as the final sixty seconds started blinking. He side-glanced when he saw a figure leap across buildings in the distance. "Locked on him still, Andy?" he yelled, tightening his hold when the Player tried yanking his hand back. "A minute to go!"

"Aoh, _yeaahh_…!" he heard his friend holler, grimacing when the Player's other hand tried to claw at the Reaper's. "Neverr saaw aah Prlayerr baounce baack _thaatt_ faalr!"

"Player. Fifty. And it's _far_, not _faalr_!" He scowled, clamping his hand hard and heard a yelp from the Player. "Could you cut that out!?" he hissed to them in irritation.

"Let _go_ of me!" the Player screamed in frustration and terror.

"_Bite me_!" he spat back, only to place a hand to their face to stop them. "No, no- _no_... don't you _dare_…" His face twisted into a glower. "Andy, are you _ready_ already?"

"The caountt?" Andy snappishly returned as he saw a figure land close, watching the Reaper crouch as light surrounded his friend's hand before a rifle materialized into it again.

He sighed, "Thirty-seven…" The black hoodie Reaper released his hold as he threw the Player's wrist back and watched them flail on to the road with a yelp. "Thirty-four." The Player twisted on the cement before springing up to waver on his wobbly feet, trying to start up another run only to trip and disorientedly manage to keep going in a wobble. "Twenty-seven."

"Keep yaawrr eiyes aonn him, _aI_ waannaa knaow haow he gaoes daown!" yelled Andy with a jubilant whoop. "Jaust keep aonn _yaawrr_ prletty caounting folr yaa baaudd Aahndee, aahnd aI maay spritt the daough witth yaa aah thilrd aonce wee baag _mah_ kiirl."

"Keep _focusing _then... Fifteen."

Andy's target pressed his hands to his ears and shook his head distraughtly when stopping for some reason. The Reaper felt the stress may have fried the Player's thoughts to fight-or-flight mode's freeze and go numb option, probably done with the hopeless escape... The Reaper sighed when he threw that thought away as the Player let out an animalistic scream. **'Seriously… just lay down and accept it.'**

As the Player burst into a sprint, shooting forward in a zig-zag, the Reaper stopped his waiting and hummed, "Five, four, three-"

Just as the Player was turning a corner, a whir cut through the air and a molten pellet struck them dead in the collarbone. They splayed out their limbs with a screech, seemingly hurled in the air in slow motion for a brief moment before an eruption of lava fell over their figure, falling to the cement as particles escaped into the air.

Yen Pins showered the ground as the Psych finished, followed by a cry of pure fiero carrying over to the Reaper's ears from his friend, "_Enjaoy yaawrr srreep faorrevelr naow yaa sttuupiid caotttaonttairl!_ HAAHAAHAA…"

"Zero." The Reaper exhaled softly. **'_Que acabado perfecto_...'**

The Harrier smiled warmly for a moment or two before he went up to the Support Reaper. He reached into his side-pouches of his knapsack, folding ten ¥10,000 Pins into their hands before clasping their fingers over the Pins. "For your troubles."

"O-Oh- _thanks_," mumbled the Support Reaper in surprise, rubbing their nape. "Just doing my job."

"As we all are," returned the Reaper a nod of agreement, stepping back as the Wall clicked open. "That's all we need from you."

When he went up to the fallen Yen Pins, he heard Andy screech, "_Aohkaay_\- rlay eit aonn _Aahndee_\- haow ded he _gao daown_!?"

"I can't really quite describe it, but if you want, I can act it out before your jealous coworkers try to reap what we sowed."

"_Wee_?" His friend echoed flatly. "Whenne ded _wee_ becaome aah '_wee_'!?" his friend demanded angrily with a heavily cracked voice.

"You wouldn't have gotten it without me laying the pieces down for your kill, Andy." He pointedly put as much annoyance into his voice as he could, but inside he laughed at how Andy may have been just too stubborn to admit how amusing it was as he thought it was inside. He crispened his tone to be mild as he went on matter-of-factly, "And you're not popular with me heralding your kills, so you better get here before those vultures try to shoot _your_ messenger _again_."

"Welrl _daaln_\- aI geeuss aI gaott ta give yaa _saome_ cledeitt… Aohkay, mah _saweett_ _bummpkein_, yaawrr baaudd Aahndee's jaust gaonna taake aah _secc_-"

It didn't take long until the semi-tall and wiry Reaper joined him. Immediately his friend's hood was flipped off as shaggy, cropped dirty blonde hair and gleaming amber-brown eyes glowed in the late Spring sun. "Aooh-_haoo_\- Reett's see whaatt aI gaott flom them…" she said in her heavily accented, low croaky voice, rubbing her hands together eagerly as she inspected her spoils. "Laotts aof Yeen!? _Heck yeaah_! AI heitt the jaackpaott!"

She began stuffing them into her trouser pockets, giggling giddily without a care in the world. He watched quietly, pretending there was nothing wrong with how distracted she was now with her Yen until he finished counting up to a full minute.

The Reaper inhaled before aheming, soon speaking up, "How much of your spoils do you think you can share with your _messenger_?"

"Aah _thilrd_\- dedn'tt aI terl yaa…?" she drawled out with annoyance in her broken Japanese, tsking with sharp shakes of her head. She pulled some Yen Pins towards herself, patting it until a small pile was roughly smoothed out before tapping her foot close to it. "Helre yaa gao… yaawrr thilrd, shaorrtt sttaacke."

He nodded, leaning down to pick up his share of the Erasure assist.

Before pocketing it, he went back to the Support Reaper, handing ten more ¥10,000 Pins before returning to his companion. The male Harrier watched as she soon shoved the last handful into her satchel, trotting up to the sparkling, blue bundled particles before clapping her hands against them. A glow enveloped her fingers before she placed a hand on her hip, with a large, toothy grin thrown his way afterwards.

Andy was very much electrified when it came to getting her Reaper Points for the Week. Or, to be specific, if _he_ busted his back for her. Even at the thought of being used, the Reaper shifted to slide his bag off again, carefully dropping his Yen Pins in before smiling tenderly.

It was their shtick.

To be honest, he never would have guessed there was another Plane of existence above Shibuya. Especially in regards to the underground activities going on that he would never see even if he looked straight up- even if he caught the gaze of the sun. Now? He's living the dream with Andy at his side; surpassing themselves each and every day!

Andy pushed him along… and he returned the courtesy. For a twenty-year-old Japanese girl who could hardly string her Rs and Ls right after setting foot in her native country for the first time since infancy, she knew how to string along the Players on the right street corner for little nineteen-year-old him to do the exchange of pleasantries. Andy wasn't a bright girl, but he was a bright guy. If she couldn't trick a Player, he could. If he couldn't find a target, she could. If she couldn't get Players to stop running, he could.

They leapt and leapt all over the place… their line of working together was the ever splendorous, symbiotic glue. They fended for each other and would make sure all wrongdoers paid their dues!

If… they were stronger.

He frowned at that thought, curling his hands into fists.

It took them about a Week to make three Pacts' existences blink away… and just their combined efforts alone made the Reaper realize they had to get some more in. But that's the thing: There weren't any more wrongdoers here, and him and Andy had standards… If it was a Player who happened to lose their Partner through the Game's natural means, and him and Andy hadn't had luck getting a target... they'd bent the rule a little just to share a _teeny_ snack for the road. It wasn't one for each of them to be sustained by, so when it came to that... they'd have to ditch the Underground for a bit to search for new targets to fill up the slots of the next Week for their following hunt.

The first two Pacts they downed were hapless First Day morons, so the amount of Reaper Points they collected was none too gratifying or plentiful... This last Pact was certainly more forgiving and gave him more pep in his step than he had in the last five Days, but it felt more like he ate a person and half another. Even if his stomach didn't rumble anymore, he at least wanted to avoid allowing himself to experience the pain that will be wringing nearly his whole body again at some point for more meals. However... it was the second to last Day now. If the vultures hated them for stealing their potential last kills, gee... imagine what would happen if Andy and him sprung in to swipe another?

...Hah, like he would seriously think deeply about something _that_ obvious. For now, he concluded in resignation, him and Andy would have to do with tracking down wrongdoers tomorrow.

He slung his bag back on, carefully adjusting his wings again before an arm made him turn his head calmly to his partner. "Shaourld wee cellehbrlaatte?" she asked with a wolfish grin. "Heaarrd caonveeince sttaoles gaott gaood niibbrluerrs!"

"Uh, I kind of _was_ hoping to find next Week's targets," he said as he smiled fondly. "Crime won't stop for no one."

She scoffed, shaking her head, "Yaa gaottaa bee kiidding mee… Wee ded gaood this Weeek, aahnd yaawrr telring mee yaa waaanaa keeep gaoing aatt eit?"

"Well, when you hug your fading belly, come find me," he said dryly in amusement as he crouched, effectively escaping the dirty blonde's hold. As she groped the now empty space, he edged back in his crouch before he rose fluently up, flapping his wings to test their range of motion again then began walking. "In order to walk ahead, we must plan ahead."

"Baautt yaa daon'tt think yaa waanaa haang laow?" she asked as she fell into step with him, making him briefly glance at her before looking forward as they strode into the Scramble Crossing. Automobiles honked as they slid through them, the toei bus groaning out upon stopping to let out the business men hopping off. They all adjusted their hold on their briefcases as they gradually broke from their pack, beginning their march for home...

The Reaper flinched, broken out of his thoughts when Andy pushed herself ahead of him. As she twisted around to face him, she smirked. "AI meaan, caao'maone… wee gaottaa eienjaoy aourselrves befaorre thaatt Caoundaattaorr caattches weiind aof-"

A somewhat dry cough sounded.

The Harrier Reaper froze, immediately having the feeling of smallness stirring in his heart before he scowled past Andy at the man who left-held a cane behind her. Midnight blue eyes were directed their way, his slicked-back fawn coloured hair not having a single hair sticking out and, as always, the Conductor's white, cream and gold suit looked brand new... But even though he wore and held the regal appearance to no fault, the polite smile and cold gaze didn't erase the haughty image the man probably had no clue he was exhibiting to the two of them right now.

Andy's exuberance evaporated when she finally turned, starting backwards violently with a sneer at the said man. She backed away warily to flank the Reaper's right, crossing her arms as her stance remained stiff. Her large, twitchy, bent wings fanned out aggressively as the male Reaper continued to scowl at the posh bastard.

"Great job, Andy... you summoned the devil right to us," he whispered dryly to her, receiving the stink eye as a response from the corner of his eye. He sighed, shaking his head, "Alright, alright... let's get this over with..."

After a long pause, he tilted his head at the man, raising a palm up as he breathed flatly, "Oh wow, we didn't see you there... what do you want this time?"

"I have little idea what goes on in your heads... when you cheer about your little killing sprees and don't even make an effort to pretend your actions don't garner disgust," said the Conductor crossly and the Reaper gritted his teeth from under his hood. The fawn-coloured haired man sniffed, his eyes drifting to the Reaper, "Remove your hood."

The Reaper narrowed his eyes. "I don't have a reason to _want_ to." He shrugged lazily. "The sun keeps _hurting_ my eyes… I find it personally _hazardous_ when my hood slaps me in the face when flying… And I _don't_ it like when people _stare_ at me… _especially_ posh bastards like _you_."

"...Is it really that hard for you to show your higher-ups respect?" asked the Conductor with a sigh and dismissive shake of his head. "I cannot see why you wish to resist the Underground's policies when we have given you shelter to sleep in. Nor do I understand why you have not made an effort to take the honest to good chance of turning your lives around for the better."

"_Hah_, like existing counts as living…" muttered the Reaper bitterly, kicking a pebble boredly. "Does antagonizing us make your '_life_' happy?" he asked the man in a sneer, watching the man's eyes light up in anger as the Reaper pressed, "Do you get a _rise_ from greying out your hair because you just hate our guts?" He paused, soon adding in annoyance, "Wait… If the rumours _are_ true... why are you _acting_ like you're a saint when we're both stuck in the same _Age Freeze_? Think you're a _special_ cinnamon bun or something to feel fucking better about yourself?"

"Cease, your, words…" the Conductor said sternly, his hand clenching his cane harder enough to turn white. "Follow me." As he strolled away, unsteady, sharp clacks striking the cement, he soon halted when the Harrier Reaper and Andy refused to budge. "I _said_, follow me."

"Leike wee caarre…" Andy scoffed, shaking her head. "AI daon'tt think yaa knaow wee daon'tt geive aah sheitt aahbaoutt whelre yaa waantt _aus_ ta gao. Aahnd since aI'm twentty, daoesn'tt thaatt maake _mee_ yaawrr senpaai?" She flicked her gaze to him questioningly and the Harrier nodded. Looks like the lessons were readily paying off in some form… even if her fluency of Japanese lacked tact right now.

The man's eye soon twitched as he rubbed his temples with his free hand. "...You have been in the Underground for seven weeks, and you haven't even gotten your Japanese under control yet?"

"'Scuuse mee, AI daon'tt haave ta geett gaood lreicckeittee spleeitt, dao AI? AI haave aahrl mah leife ta geett this underr caounttrlaoll…" she called out in ire, curling her lip as she glared back at the man. "Daon'tt haave aah heaarltt aatttack becaause aI aain'tt perlfectt!"

Oh man, it would be a _dream_ to see an Underground version of a heart attack right now!

His excitement was killed when he felt eyes on him, flickering his eyes to see they were from the Conductor. The Harrier Reaper trembled in anger when he was on the receiving end of accusation from the midnight blue orbs that turned into cool reflections seconds later. ...Was the posh bastard pining her failure of speaking Japanese properly on the Harrier himself? How _low_ can that posh bastard go before admitting he was in the wrong of assuming she would be dancing and tooting out Japanese within an hour of a single lesson!? Damn him!

"And for _your_ information, I can only teach her so much in a Day," added the Reaper with a hot huff, taking a step forward. "Since _I'm_ apparently the only one with the sense to help my friend who is struggling with _her_ native tongue over here." He looked at Andy who was bristling, her face pure scarlet as it firmly held a hideous sneer towards the mam who expected them to obey him when he hardly lifted that stupid cane to make their existences better. The Harrier stepped closer to her, leering at the man while coldly continuing, "Or would you like to finally break the language barrier and make English the national Underground language- the thing we _all_ learn in school and what is generally accepted in the rest of the world to use- so she can talk without fear of discrimination for her broken _Japanese_? _Or_\- why don't the three of us go on over to the Composer, tell Him about Andy's and my concern, while _you_ sit in the corner and let the grownups talk?"

He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Peachy with that?"

The Conductor remained tense- maybe becoming more rigid by the second- and soon turned around before his obviously fake smile grew tighter. "If you must continue, I will not refrain from the shame of handcuffing myself to one of you, or dragging you by your hood, if it means I'll get through to you somehow."

Andy snickered and shook her head at that.

The Reaper was about to comment on the absurdity the Conductor would stoop to blatantly bluffing about doing something he knew the man would never do out of humility and pride when the Conductor started towards them. The Reaper wasn't phased by this, knowing full well that intimidation wouldn't get him to budge when the Conductor halted in front of him. The man's unchanging expression slowly began to ooze out grimness before the Reaper yelped when a hand curled the base his wings and squeezed them hard.

Within seconds, the Harrier found himself being forced to briskly walk nearly beside the posh bastard who was stubbornly dragging him along.

The Harrier cried out anxiously in agony, "_St-Stop it_-" His eyes watered as he tried to claw behind himself feebly at the hand holding his wings captive, breathing out unsteadily as he spat harshly, "What the _hell_ are you doing!?" This was just downright humiliating- not to mention-

Why was the posh bastard _doing_ this!?

Their wings were delicate despite their leathery texture- their indicators of strength- At the intensity of the posh bastard's death grip, the Reaper realized he finally pissed the Conductor off and his wings might get clipped if he wasn't released now! Damn that posh bastard! He leered furiously as he fought to beat his wings hard, hoping it would annoy the posh bastard to release the Harrier if the wings slapped the Conductor in the face enough... even when the Harrier's pain increased- Oh dear- fuck- this plan better be worth it!

"Making my point," the Conductor replied in pleasant mockery despite how the tattooed wings were clearly stinging his face, his steps steady and clacks undeterred by his blatant torturing. "I felt that the other two options may have been _much_ too mellow for a man of your age, so I amended my lapse in judgment promptly as I should."

"You're _hurting_ me!" the Harrier retorted through gritted teeth as he ceased flapping his now agony screaming wings. "You're a sick, _posh_ bast-" He cried out in a groan when the Conductor's hold tightened and instantly the Harrier tried to dig his heels down hard into the cement to resist the relentless tugging. If he had dirt, he may have had a chance to root himself in… but he was recklessly ruining the bottom of his favourite creamy loop-striped sneakers.

"_Stop_…" he gritted out in the lowest growl he could make. He sucked in air, shaking his head before yelling harshly when the man continued to keep his clamp painful and easily kept them moving forward to who knows damn where, "STOP IT- DO YOU _WANT_ TO TEAR MY WINGS OFF OF ME!?"

"If you insist."

Suddenly, the Reaper crashed and found himself on the ground, but he wasn't happy about the fact he was free from the Conductor. Agonizing white pain pulsed near his shoulder blades, leaving him sobbing out a wail as he unconsciously curled in on himself. He exhaled a muffled scream as he tried to flap his wings to ease out the pain, only to find he couldn't to his dismay.

"M-My wings-" he uttered out in raw horror. "Where are my _wings_!?"

"I believe you'll survive without them," said the Conductor mildly, not that the Harrier Reaper couldn't see through the facade for the tremendous satisfaction oozing readily from his veiled voice. "And you _did_ give me a choice, must I remind you. If there's anyone to blame for your loss, it would only be for yourself." He shifted himself and tapped his cane trice, soon content on watching the wingless Reaper's _suffering _like it was the most entertaining thing in the world.

The Harrier raised his head to get a better look at the man towering over him victoriously, venomously glowering at the conceited bastard who continued speaking, "This is why we should never allow ourselves to believe we can leave Shibuya's streets to the youth; they will tarnish the values we intend to instill and keep unless we remain involved. If only you made it easier on yourselves… then you wouldn't be so miserable in your floundering..." The man paused before his dark gaze hardened. "Now would you?"

Straightaway, the Harrier's heart stopped and his eyes went wide at those familiar words.

"_Screw you_…" hissed the Harrier, keeping his cry of pain lodged in his throat. These mind games… he wouldn't _dare_ to play them, _not_ when this man thought he was obviously better- no, _superior_ to them! It made the Harrier sick, disgusted and it reminded him of a certain somebody…

His breath harshly hitched at that thought.

He threw himself up, slightly knocking Andy away by accident before he rigidly stood towards the man furiously. "If we are not worth your time, then how about you mind your _own_, damn, business…" He set his taut expression directly towards the man, ignoring the agony slicing through his shoulder blades, barking out bitterly, "When you get _nothing_ from tampering with _our_ lives!? Taunting us- Hurting us- Chipping us down until we are broken toys for you to put back together as something to your _ideals_!" He swung his right arm outward, his nostrils flaring before he spat out, "I've _had_ it!"

"Why must you be so difficult?" The Conductor started to walk towards him. "I'm only trying to help you…"

The Harrier shook his head when his thoughts were disturbed by those words as well. "St-Stop it…" His vision started to blur and he felt dizzy as he shallowly breathed, "D-Don't get _closer_…" Slowly, the figure transformed before him when it kept approaching him and the Reaper's breath hitched more as a familiar snakelike smile curled at the younger-

Kage narrowed his eyes back at the younger male.

A chill immediately ran down his back and the younger male was sick to his stomach. "_Stay back_-" he choked out, crouching as he backed away anxiously. "I'm _warning_ you, scumbag!"

"_Why don't we go for a ride in the car… just you and me…? It _is_ raining, and we don't want your mother scared half to death about her son foolishly dying from staying out in the mere cold, now would we?"_

The younger male felt small again. **'N-No…'**

"Oh no_\- why is my engine smoking up!? Why _now_ of all times!? _Argh- _I just got it repaired yesterday! Now I have to… _grr_… G-Go open the hood and tell me if you see what's wrong… _

He shook his head, numb while trembling as Kage stalked closer. **'**_**No**_**-'**

"_See anything? Let's see… oh- _maybe_ you need a closer look-"_

"GET AWAY FROM ME! WHY WON'T YOU STAY BACK ALREADY!?" he bellowed raggedly, stumbling backwards and wrapping arms around himself, breathing harshly. He glanced wildly around, his vision blinded by static as he rushed backwards, shuddering violently. "YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT WHAT'S RIGHT FOR MY FAMILY- YOU-"

He winced upon a touch to his shoulder, flinging a fist forward angrily as everything was closing around him and trapping him… only to feel pressure around his shoulder again. Something was crushing his shoulder! It was keeping him in place as a darkness crawled into the sides of his vision, smoke shrouding his gaze as he shook his head in horror as his skin prickled at the heat starting to dust across it.

Choking out a cry, it was half-strangled in his throat as a scream rose weakly out, "_L-Let_… _g-go_… _I-I don't want to DIE!_"

"That's _enough_, Oshiro."

"Oshiro…?" the younger male whimpered in bewilderment. "Wh-Who…?"

That didn't make sense… who was Oshiro!? He didn't know any Oshiros, Kage was- Kage was the only one with the younger male! So how could...

Inhaling shakily, his hazy vision finally broke, allowing his senses to return and to shallowly breathe in again in confusion at the otherwise clean air. The Harrier blinked slightly, blinking more before he started with a violent jerk. Instead of moving like he wanted, he could only groan in pain at the pressure on his shoulder keeping him from investigating his surroundings.

**'Who the **_**hell**_** are you!?' **the Harrier gaped in disbelief at the person beside him. **'When did **_**he**_** get here!?'**

A shaggy, matted, half-grizzled haired khaki army man was death gripping the Harrier's shoulder blade. There was a haunted, grim expression set upon the stranger's face as murky green eyes were directed away from the Harrier Reaper to the calm posh bastard.

"I suppose you wouldn't mind taking over then," crisply returned the Conductor, simply adjusting his grip for some reason on his cane to hold it tighter. "...Best of luck."

The burly man, still holding the Harrier unforgivingly, grunted gruffly in response.

Andy skirted on the edge of the Harrier's vision, but all the Harrier could focus on was how the usually smug or faux pleasant expression on the posh bastard's face was now simply disturbed. It took a second or two for it to morph to one that was nonchalant, schooled and probably what that man thought was 'dignified'. That posh bastard could act like instilling the Harrier's rage was nothing, but that man shouldn't expect this was over...

Clacks and brisk, careful steps began to move the Conductor away promptly, but that wasn't enough to ease the Harrier's stress as the man headed in the direction of the Shibuya River. The Harrier's body refused to stop trembling, and all he wanted was to break free and dash away to hide in his shame of losing his wings and sulk about in his anger of the humiliation from what he was reduced to in mere moments from the haunted recollection. He wanted to sock that posh bastard in the back of the head and hope the man wouldn't get up- Upon the squeeze on his captive shoulder, it grounded him enough to allow for his self-consciousness to win over his intent for harm.

He clenched his eyes closed, scolding himself that he lost himself just as he was making his point when he lost his balance. Immediately, he kicked his legs and flailed his arms upon the abrupt relinquished hold on his body, only to feel arms hook onto and keep him half-upright while he half-sunk to an awkward crouch. He caught amber-brown eyes peering at him worriedly before the Harrier pulled his head up to manage a glance at the other remaining Reaper.

As the Harrier struggled to readjust his footing, trying not to let gravity smack his ass and crack his skull open on the road, the army man gave a hefty sigh of annoyance.

"_Pah_\- If you think you can break it down and make him understand, you _shouldn't_ count on those childish dreams," gruffly said the newcomer in his deep, scratchy voice, crossing his muscular arms in disapproval as he shook his head slowly. His limp, tattered sleeves swayed as he growled, "One thing about Oshiro: He can't learn to cradle a baby right. You _could_ place one in, but expect he'll drop them unintentionally and pretend the baby jumped out of his hold."

"Uh… whaatt?" Andy frowned as she steadied the Harrier. She soon was leaning forward- while the Harrier stood normally again- as she yapped bewildered, "Bauutt therre aain'tt _aahnee_ baabees heerre…"

The man stomped a muddy, brown and pale yellow stitched boot down, appearing disgruntled by the looks of it. "What I'm _saying_ is that Oshiro only cares about comrades who are at his beck and call- not about what _you_ young people bellyache about all day."

"Naow _thaatt_ aain'tt noicse…" Andy crossed her arms with a scowl. "Wee haave vaarid caouncelns!"

"Oh ho, _believe_ me- he's _stiffer_ than a plank and he _always_ sticks his nose up to the clouds." The brash Reaper herumped and crossed his arms as well. "And those at odds with him are not his favourites…" He waved a brawny arm their way with a swish. "_You're_ not his favourites…"

"I think we get the point," said the Harrier Reaper tartly, sighing as he went to rub at his shoulder region, "But I rather see him as an abhorrent, posh _bastard_ who thrives on shadowing us to make us miserable. Which, quite frankly, doesn't make me eager to jump off a cliff or eat my own hands at the dastardly flick of that cane of his."

The pain was receding, little by little, which he was glad about. The fact that the posh bastard took his wings tainted that relieving thought into one that was of bittersweet and deeper loathing of that man. As the Reaper returned his gaze to the huge man, he pursed his lips while pondering about the man's sudden appearance. Perhaps trying to glean some information from the man would help to distract the Harrier from the throbbing for now, since it appeared their visitant with the ruined uniform seemed very eager to talk with them right now...

Swampy green eyes sharpened as the larger-than-average Reaper nodded curtly with a 'mmm-hmm', with an ugly frown being displayed within moments. "He _can't_ tell when to stop flapping his trap when someone is experiencing their bad days, being that he's forgotten he had his _own_ once- if I remember it right..." He unwrapped his arms, the fluid motion rotating his right hand to push its palm up flat as he pointed his arm towards the younger Harrier. "_So_, what about you? Feeling better now, son?"

"_Don't_ call me '_son_'!" snapped the Harrier fiercely, scrunching up his face behind his hood. He watched lividly as the Reaper stepped back and held up his hands.

"Fine, fine-" the oldster Reaper snorted with irritation, dropping his arms with a grumble. He gave heavy stomps closer while inhaling raspily before growling out in ire, "_Are you_?"

Turning away, the Harrier gripped a knapsack strap to distract himself. "...I guess."

"_Hmph_, you _are_ or you are _not_, _maggot_!" he snarled out viciously. The Harrier simply rolled his eyes, figuring his guess at 'army man' wasn't too far from the tree by the uniform alone now. The man lumbered forward, fingers curled as he leered. "_Excuse me_ for caring about when I see a haunted man's eyes after all the ones I saw after the War! _No_ child should be hurting like the men I've seen crawling out alive from the Wars across the globe!"

Narrowing his eyes, the Harrier huffed coolly, "Then you're Sadist Saiyama…" Upon seeing the man's taut expression hardening slightly from the corner of the younger Reaper's eye, the Harrier shook his head. "Never would have expected such kind words from the one who enjoys the pain he gives onto his enemies, and loves the trouble he dumps onto his 'comrades'."

"You aren't an enemy," returned the man with a sniff. "Just a broken child on the cusp of adulthood."

"I'm _only_ nineteen," he told the man coldly, crossing his arms and lowered his gaze. "I would be an adult by next year if I hadn't chosen to stay down here… Don't act like you know what I've been through."

"Oh ho, ho… never crawled back into your life, did you now? Why stay when you _clearly_ suck at following Underground politics?" jabbed the army man, but the Harrier refused to answer. "_Well_?"

"Come on, Andy…" said the young Reaper with a sigh, trying to cast away the thoughts flooding in and threatening to asphyxiate him from the older Reaper's question. "We got better places to be."

She nodded with a grimace, poking a thumb in the army man's direction while facing the Harrier. "Leike aI waannaa sttick aalaound weith thiis grlaampaop… _eeick_."

The large man bristled at that. "_What_?" He turned to watch as the Harrier began walking the way they came earlier, veering off to the right as the Harrier's friend began to follow after him immediately. "You're not doing yourselves _favours_ running away from someone trying to _help_ you!" the older man boomed in anger.

"With _what_?" asked the Harrier bitterly, not looking back. "Trying to go from the foundations up on why my life was screwed over? Trying to make me open up when all I want is to pretend a little longer…?"

"Pretend all you want, but that _hasn't_ worked out for you yet…" growled the other Reaper back. "Feh."

The Harrier Reaper pressed on, shaking his head. "I gave up on listening to fools who think they know better than me months ago. Stop wasting your breath, old man."

Content at receiving sweet silence as a response, he turned unenthusiastically to Andy. "Where are we going?"

Andy grinned, smacking a hand on his shoulder and quickened her stride. "Weerl…"

* * *

Upon glaring down at the piss-coloured liquid in his glass, the Harrier was happy to just let his companion move her non-stopping jaw instead of becoming hammered like her.

**'Should have specified for no izakayas...'** he wearily thought in annoyance, rapping his fingers on the table and pretended he didn't see the offensive beverage in front of him. He sighed internally, cursing his luck that Andy was in the mood for this after that bad confrontation with the posh bastard and the apparently 'charitable' Sadist Saiyama...

"Yaa knaow? AI _laovue yaa_, _maan_!" she crowed out, laughing heartily before grabbing his shoulders from across the table with a hardened look and purse of her lip. "Naott _thaatt_ laowue…! AI a_ain'tt_ thiinking aup _aahnee_ faancee folr yaa…" She made a spitting, gagging motion with her mouth before grinning lopsidedly.

When Andy began poking at his cheeks, he grimaced slightly yet he couldn't be annoyed at her need to manhandle him after she had a well-deserved drink. Nor could he care when he found himself drowning in how he didn't give a shit for anything right now. "AI'd give yaa sugaalr naow, _baautt_... aI _daon'tt_ waannttah geett the aorl' ruuemaoulr miirl spienning aalaound by them…" She started patting his cheeks. "_Taarlking_ 'baoutt aus aasz aahnn aaittiemm, aahnnd ausz dinnking aoulr skaaorls wuorlying 'baoutt haow ta caautt their hoottsz sierreentt folr gaoodd- sao haow 'baoutt _this_?"

Andy punched him hard in the arm, causing him to cry out in pain and scowled this time. She released him to allow him to hold his tender shoulder as he silently lamented again from what the Conductor had taken from him. The Harrier Reaper grimaced painfully once more before watching her put a hand cockily on her hip when she stood up, swaying them as she ambled away tipsily to slam her glass down at the counter.

As the meek waiter filled the glass with whisky, glancing at him before topping the drink, she flicked her head back while shaking it to the Harrier. "Aahw, _caao'maone_… aI dedn'tt saock aoutt yaawrr saockiett ded _aI_…?"

"It's love," he corrected, drawing the syllables out to shift the last topic he wanted to hear right now away. He rubbed his arm idily as he spoke again, "_Love_..."

He lifted his whisky glass, contemplating on whether or not to chuck it at the wall upon being reminded of the umeshu stain event, or let Andy down it again like he usually decided to.

Sometimes, despite his conscience, he wondered if it was worth fighting with his principles as the thought of downing it didn't disturb him as much as it used to… It was tempting, to not fall back on the rules of his family home when he couldn't give a damn about things anymore as the days went by and everything kept going south for him. If the world wanted to burn… let it burn. The thought sparked bad memories, yet it fit so perfectly with how he felt when he was at his lowest. It rang true as he repeated it over and over, spinning the liquid sin in its glass cradle as he damned it for being ordered for him by his friend who was an addict for it.

After he died, he found it hard to have the same excitement or energy for the things he used to care about unless it involved killing wrongdoers and dragging them to the Underground to hunt them down again. Something he _never_ experienced when be was alive… was how much fervour he felt when enacting those actions. Like it was the only damn thing that made him feel good about anything anymore.

The idea of killing and hearing about murders in the newspapers used to horrify him, but now it thrilled him because he could stop it! Him and Andy could! Kill the killers- go home as the saviours! He could only think that-

He blinked, noticing his friend was giving him the stink eye. "What?" he scoffed in annoyance.

"Yaa thiink taa muuch." She pursed her lips at him.

"_No_, I don't," he trenchantly replied while setting the glass down sharply, soon sighing, "But that's not the point, what do you want?"

The dirty blonde rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Neeverr daatte. Yaawr gaoing ta iggnaorre aarl aof them when yaa maake yaa thiick heaad blaoaatt leike thiis while eaach aof them gaoes haome aah suuckerr."

"Seriously, what do you want, Andy?" he asked again in a flat tone this time and with a few head shakes. **'Not that I _will_ date, **_**sheesh**_**…'**

"Ded aI saay rovue rlightt, aor ded thaatt _naot_ paass thrlough the baalrrielrr thaatt eis yaa fuucking skurl folr _taarrnaattion_!?" she spitted in irritation as she banged a hand against the counter. Her drink toppled and the waiter went pale as his hands froze close to where Andy's hand rested, and the Harrier watched awkwardly as the man sunk down to hide under the counter.

"_Ooh_… sorry about that…" called the Harrier sheepishly over to the hidden waiter, who was probably going to ban them after this, while grimacing. It wouldn't be the first time they got banned because of Andy blowing a fuse over his fixation of 'over-analyzing' things, he mused with contrite. "C-Count that on our bill… I s-suppose?"

All he got was a whimper from the poor soul.

Sending a sharp look at Andy, she rolled her eyes and blew a raspberry. "Chiiccken…" she muttered with a head shake.

"Oh _bite me_, you could have been nicer about being annoyed with me!" he spat, feeling his hackles rise as he abruptly got up. "You _scared_ that man, Andy!"

She huffed, "Naott mah faaultt he's plraaying paossum…" She soon fell into giddy snickers as her flushed cheeks reddened more.

He could only point at her in exhaustion. "No more whisky for you."

"Geive meh aahnaottherr, Chiiccky-Piie!" she shouted and banged another hand, leaning over the counter to peer at the man who was probably cowering and crying in terror down there.

The Harrier merely sat back down, grumbling before he watched as the waiter reappeared to stand at the counter again, trembling like he was at gunpoint. As the man shakily righted the glass, reaching for a whisky bottle, Andy sniffed, "Rlouve."

Sighing, he simply decided not to comment. "Love."

His only friend crossed her arms, ignoring the refilled glass as she heavily leaned onto the counter and nearly knocked it over again. "Raouvue…?" He shook his head. "Laovue…? Lraowue…?" He shook his head a few more times, waiting on her again. "Lraoave? Lroovve...? Lrovve?"

"Love," he repeated, resting a hand to his forehead.

"Laavve…? Love?" He nodded with a sigh. "Lealry!? AI gaott eitt!?" He nodded again. "_Aahah whlight_\- _aI_ gaott the love waolrd daown naow- daon'tt wuaorly, baaudd! Love, laove, _laavue_!" She grimaced, screwing up her face. "...Love...?" She straightened a bit more, looking proud of herself while resting a hand on her chest and closed her amber-brown eyes.

Andy staggered back to the table after scooping up and precariously holding her small glass. Instead of returning to her seat, she sank into one next to him. "Yaa knaow haow haarld eit eis witth traansiituoning taa Jaapaanesze flom Engrrish. AI'm glraad yaa wilrlin' taa putt aup witth mee, aahnd maaking suerre AI'm aabele taa geitt mah Jaapaanesze beettterr..." She ripped out a thick pocket dictionary that was brimming with sticky notes, flipping it before bringing it close to her face. "_Love_… leike aah _daovve_… leike aah _rlauhbb~aahh_~_dauhbb_~_dauhbb_..." She slammed it closed, shoving it back into her cargo pants before grinning with a sharp nod. "_Gaott eit_…"

She chuckled crisply in her low, croaky voice, downing her refill before she leaned towards him. She slung an arm around his shoulder, only to flinch when he winced before hooting out, "Yaa knaow? AI daon't knaow whaatt aI'd dao weitthaout yaa, mah _saweett_ bummpkein."

"Well, I certainly can't imagine what it would be like without you," he supplied back, trying to subtly move her appendage away from the sore areas his wings had been. "Even if others don't understand our work, you do."

"AI knaow…" she slurred with giggles, picking up his glass and ogling it before raising it towards him. When he raised a hand to decline it she shook it, leaning close with a darkened expression. "Caa'maon, maan… jaust oanee waon't huurltt yaa. Yaa shaould knaow yaa need this…"

"No thanks." He turned his head, pursing his lips in disgust before his mouth was forced open. As he was flailing as the harsh liquid burned down his throat, he sputtered out in coughs, "A-And-dy-" He coughed heavily and wheezed soon after she patted him on the back, glowering at her with a side-glance. "I-I said I didn't _want_ any!" he shouted out and instantly shoved her off of him, feeling his flared irritation simmer into frustration towards her.

"Yaa caan'tt terl mee yaa deedn'tt need thaatt, rlightt…?" she breathed raspily as she slowly retook her seat on the other side of the table, raising her lips in a slight cheeky smirk. "Daon'tt bee aah wuss, yaa spirled maorre thaan yaa haad maorre. Yaa lleminded mee aof the Piggies yaa keptt missing wheen aI keptt hittting them ein the eiyzes! Hehehe..."

Oh joy of that memory... Andy wouldn't let him live it down for two Weeks. Didn't he make her promise to not bring it up again!? ...Not that it was important to think about right now, of course.

He frowned yet he didn't feel the alcohol taking effect yet. He didn't know if he was the type of person who would lapse within minutes from being a lightweight or was one of the lucky people to remain sober… In order to not test his luck, he decided he should be careful for the next few hours in case a buzzed Andy felt the need to intervene further to lush him.

The Harrier slightly raised his hand, coughing weakly as he called out quietly, "Could I get some water…"

"Aohh baoooo, Mrr. Waowserr..." Andy moaned in disappointment, shaking her head in mock scolding. "Yaaw'rre nao fuun!"

"I'm the only one who can take us home safely, Andy," he said matter-of-factly with a slight rasp, soon becoming aware of how he felt himself sway slightly. Hmm… from his understanding, his little consumption of the harsh liquid was already working through his bloodstream. ...Was it that easy, to let the glass of venom do it's magic even when you didn't want it to? He simply sighed at the thought, mumbling back to his companion, "...Even if I did want to go for the 'complete experience'."

"Wee gao dreenking, yaa hoolding deenkee waatterr… Wee gao daanczing, yaa aatt the waarl aas aah waarl frloweerr…" She shook her head, grinning goofily despite her disgruntlement as she sneered mischievously, "Yaawr jaust _scaared_… leike _Chiicky-Pie_ aoverr therre!"

"_No_, I'm just…" He tapered off then paused to thank the waiter for the new glass being rested down on the table. After picking it up, he brought its rim to his lips to sip. Just having something to wash down the whisky- that already made him realize he was starting to get squiffy- was enough to be grateful for. "Not in the mood."

"Faaillr eenouuf!" she exclaimed, slamming her hands on the table and caused the waiter to cry out a feeble complaint. "Thaatt Coonnduucttaar eis jaust the wourlstt! Taaking yaawrr weengs leike thaatt-"

"Andy- _inside_ _voices_!" he hissed, glancing at the other person in their vicinity. If the Conductor hated them for their usual antics, he would likely be back when the posh bastard finds out a buzzed Andy is spilling everything about the Underground nearby an unsuspecting Realground inhabitant. The Harrier waved at the bowl-cut haired man, pushing out the most believable laughter (while cringing internally) as he shouted, "No more drinks for my friend, eh?"

Slowly, the pale man smiled sheepishly; nodding mutely but slightly shaking.

The Harrier returned his attention to Andy, feeling his vision tip a bit, and put a hand to his forehead. **'And certainly no more drinks for me…' **He tried to not gag as he hissed sternly, "Wait until _later_, we can't talk about it _here_."

"AI thiink _naow's_ the time, ezpecciaallee wheen yaa gaott nao weengs 'caausze aouf thaatt maan- he's geittting taa big falr his brrittches…" she sneered angrily with her gaze hardening and darkening, her lips slowly drawing back in a snarl. She poked him in the chest, making him scowl when it seemed apparent she was too drunk to catch his drift to stop talking. "Wee'lree daoing naotthing wlong… jaust sttlrieeping the sttlleetts aouf thaose baasttalrds...Yaawrr _rlecrluetting_…"

"My… _what_?" he softly echoed, only to have a sticky note crammed dictionary be shoved in his face within seconds. He grimaced at the tact of getting his attention before a fidgety, tapping nail-chewed finger drew his interest to a single word.

**Recruiting**.

He frowned. "Recruiting...?" He put a hand on his forehead, shaking his head lightly. "Andy… I don't follow whatever you mean by that."

"Yaawrr _rlecrluetting_ aarl aouf theem… baaad guuys!" she spat harshly, throwing the dictionary down. She crossed her arms, pursing her lips before grumbling, "Haow dao yaa feerl wheen theey daon'tt thaank yaa folr aarl yaa doo ta keep thee sttleetts saaffe!? Theey knaow eit's naott saaffe, bautt theey jaust plettend eit's nao biig deeaal aahnd snuube aus folr dooing aah rlightt folr Shiibuuyaa!"

He opened his mouth to counter her claim when he stopped half-heartedly. Blinking, he soon settled for a scowl and lowered his gaze, watching the glass of water shift as anger churned in his stomach. "You… got a point."

"Aahnd whaatt dao _yaa_ thiink aahboutt thiss…?" she asked warily, staring at him intently.

"What do I think...?" He hardened his expression as he rolled the question around in his head, narrowing his eyes slowly. "A lot, actually…" He frowned deeply, sipping the rest of the water before setting down the glass as he sneered coolly, "It's ridiculous how _we're_ being reprimanded when everyone could be bringing the wrongdoers here to understand what they should have realized sooner…" He clenched his hands, gritting his teeth as he heard his tone give away the frustration he was trying to keep in check for the last few weeks. "Yet _they're_ walking free on the streets- smug on their freedom- when they deserve nothing but pain and misery! Those bastards are the reason why _many_ are suffering down here to begin with- so why can't the _Conductor_ see we're doing the world a favour by _thinning_ them down to _nothing_!?"

The Harrier exhaled sharply as he looked at his companion, who was silent as she gestured for him to continue. Usually, he knew it would be rational to stop and let the issue go to fume it about later mentally... But right now, he couldn't help but thrive on the adrenaline coursing through his system. If he was going to let off steam, he damn knew it had to be let out now!

He felt his body go rigid as he sharply gestured his hands while hissing angrily, "It's _disgusting_… that they think they have the law around their fingers- that _they're_ above justice _and_ the ones who they make _suffer_! It isn't much to make them disappear for good! So why can't the posh bastard see that we're not _causing_ trouble- we're only _stopping_ it!?"

Andy suddenly sat up straighter. "Aoohh!" He looked at her intently as she slapped her hands together and started to rub them, giggling maniacally, "_AI_ knaow aah waaaay…" A glint passed through her eyes when she proclaimed, "Aah peettittion! Leike the aonnes ein schaooorl!"

He frowned, but allowed her to take the stage in their discussion as she went on excitedly, "Thaatt Saadish Yaamaarlaamaa saaid the Caounduucttaarr aonnrlee rristtens tao aorttherr Leaapeerls… bauutt- whaatt eiff wee geett maany, _maany_,_ aottrherr_ suppolrtterrs aon yaa rlecluetting yaa doo aahllwaays!? Whaatt eiff wee'rre naott the aonnrlee aonnes whaoo thiink eit's telriaabrle nao aones deaarling witthh the baad guuuyz? _Taomaorlaow_ leet's geet naames daown aahnd gaatthelr aotthelrs whaoo aagrlee wiitth aus aahnd shoave eit ein thaatt baasttalrd's faace sao hee wiirl see wee aahll waantt ta maake aah diffelrwence!"

The Harrier's breath hitched. "But then we're listening to what Sadist Saiyamma told us."

For a brief second, he thought the chinking of glass being cleaned stopped, and glanced at the waiter who froze upon meeting his gaze. The dark auburn haired man started to whistle promptly and the Reaper narrowed his eyes. **'Does he know Sadist Saiyama…?'** The whistling sounded forced; that had to mean that meek man was awkwardly trying to divert their attention!

Immediately, the Harrier turned his body completely towards the man, smiling slightly. "How would you feel if criminals went missing for good?"

"H-Huh-" The man in the black long-legged pants and long-sleeved dark mauve uniform immediately dropped the cup. When the sound of it shattering echoed through the room, he cringed as his cheeks darkened to a cherry red. Dismissing what he saw, the male Reaper waited patiently until the man laughed sheepishly in his countertenor voice, "Um… I-I don't think I understand what you're asking…"

"What's your name?" the Reaper asked curtly, watching the man blanch.

For a long time, their host was silent playing with his white waist-apron with maroon swirls before the dark auburn, bowl-cut haired man stopped. He dipped his head and mumbling his response, "H-Hiraku Maeda..?"

"_Alright_." The Reaper nodded, allowing his voice to richen with practiced sweetness. He slightly lowered his hood to allow the man to meet his sharp brown eyes, a glint passing through them. "Mr. Maeda, may I have a moment of your time?"

"Yaaah-haooo-" Andy rubbed her hands keenly, a mischievousness settling over her wide, cheek-stretched grin. "Aoohh maan, yaaw'rre dooing eit." She rubbed her hands faster with giddy laughter. "Thiiss eis gaoing tao bee gaood!"

The Reaper got up, letting the motivating whoops from his companion serve to fuel his determination. He tried to steady his feet from sitting too long and from the unfamiliar tipsiness threatening to yank him sideways before sauntering to the man. He kept his gaze locked with the man's dark brown as he took a seat in front of the waiter, flattening his lips as he explained curtly, "This is a, uh, rather _hypothesized_ scenario." He neatly folded his hands together on the counter, pretending it wasn't sticky from Andy's earlier disruption. "I'm curious about what you might think of it."

"Oh!" Mr. Maeda relaxed partly, wiping his hand across his face before laughing softly, "It's not much trouble, actually…"

Despite how nonplussed the waiter reacted initially, the Reaper's skillful observation told him he successfully pushed the question from alarming to a casual exchange of opinions…

Being suave like this disgusted him from how often he was forced to feign his pleasantries with that man who was chasing after the Reaper's so-called mother… However, it served him a fine purpose of dragging out the scuttling truth that refused to make an appearance, wailing and yelling into centre stage. It always angered the scumbag that the Reaper could swindle out and expose those veiled lies. And it certainly was… satisfying... to rub it in the lying scum's face- to laugh at how the younger man won and how the swine failed to pull wool over the Reaper's eyes.

He smiled slightly. Although, if anything, he wondered if it appeared more as a smirk.

Easing himself into a more comfortable position, the Reaper tried to soften his face to match the meek man's expectations. "Well, what would happen if… let's say… you hate someone?"

"Hate someone?" echoed the young adult, tapping his chin's mouche in thought. "Huh… don't know many I would consider hating, though…" He crossed his arms uncomfortably with a sad frown. "I know one person that is a _bit_ harsher on me than the others, but I don't think I would hate them for getting mad with how I am." He sighed as he half-closed his dark brown eyes, "I'm just a ham-fisted sack of potatoes..."

**'Well, you **_**certainly**_** are honest… but that's not what I was looking for.' **The Reaper strained to keep his face from grimacing. "Y-Yes. But, what if you _did_ have someone you hated? Always rubbed you the wrong way, or…" He gestured his hand slightly as he tried to come up with something that reflected innocent sounding intrigue. "Hmm… you would rather never bother you ever again?"

"I see, so they move away, right?" asked Mr. Maeda with an awestruck gasp, untangling his arms to thud a fist into his other open hand. "And hopefully become a better person because they go somewhere happier and peacefuller!"

The Reaper nearly wilted.** 'I chose the wrong person to ask about this…' **He inhaled, trying to disguise his disappointment for simply the former. "Uh, _perhaps_… _But_, what if they _didn't_ move away?"

"...Then where would they go?" The waiter grimaced with evident bogglement. "When would they be back?"

"N-Not exactly…" Come on, don't fail now! He couldn't let this man walk over him with his apparent innocence and optimism to trust the misguided wrongdoers. He made himself sit taller, hardening his eyes as he looked deeper into the man's eyes. "_No_. What I mean is... what if they just vanished?"

"_Vanished_!?" the man gasped, pressing his hands- and by extension the rag he was holding- to his cheeks in distress. "Where did he go!?"

"I… I-I'm not sure, but what if you never saw them again because they vanished, and you didn't like them because they were so terrible to you?" probed the Reaper, adding to make sure the person didn't interrupt the message the Reaper was trying to paint with more moronic assumptions for positive scenarios, "And you never saw them again, but you know they did such other horrible deeds to others that _everyone else _didn't like how terrible he was at all?"

The man's jaw dropped, opening and closing it in appall. "I… I-I don't know?" He closed his mouth to frown, his eyes becoming sad pools. "I'd wonder where he went, or if he was okay…"

This man was a tough cookie to crack, but surely this person wasn't _this_ forgiving for wrongdoers!? Wait… now that the Harrier thought about it, was he... Oh no, did he accidentally change the subject's person he was referring to!?

The Reaper inwardly cursed at his mistake, shifting gears immediately. He tried to mirror the man's face, putting in the effort of making his voice wet sounding and his eyes watery for the desired effect. "So you w-wouldn't… be happy? Even if they were a criminal that wouldn't do anymore harm and suffering to innocent citizens…? Would you want others to _suffer_ so the criminal can live happily and _continue_ with their misdeeds?" He lowered his eyes, trying to think of the falling out with the woman he used to think of as his mother, soon feeling angry warmth behind his eyes spill down his face. "Hurt m-_more_ people…?"

"W-Wait- _criminals_!?"

The Reaper blinked, yet still felt his crocodile tears leak down his cheeks.

"You didn't say anything about criminals!?" the man tried to explain frantically, instantly reaching for the Reaper's shoulder. The Reaper fought against the instinctive urge to cringe away to allow the hand to gingerly land on it, keeping his head still and eyes averted. Keeping character was hard; guilt tripping was easy. "I-If you meant criminals, surely they should serve their sentence and work towards righting their wrongs! I-I mean, I-I thought you meant a bully, o-or a mean-spirited person-"

"S-Sorry, I should have been more sp-specific…" the Reaper stuttered, or at least, he hoped it was a believable stutter. He could already see the pity on the man's face… _perfect_. "I th-thought I said criminals, b-but I guess I forgot to…"

"N-No- no… don't feel bad! I'm not always specific, and people I know always get angry at me for not being clear enough, o-or saying things I shouldn't have told people-"

**'**_**Thanks**_** for guilt tripping **_**me**_**…'**

"- but I think sometimes… we just got to have more tolerance to letting ourselves carefully piece sentences together and for us to plan out what we have to say instead of just winging it from pressure to respond immediately!" The man gave a thumbs up after he was finished blurting everything out in that long, frazzled sentence and was now grinning brightly… The Reaper could see how hard the man was trying to cheer him up from how tightly he was trying to keep his lips from downturning, knowing the gesture wasn't a common one done by the man from the forced gusto it had.

The Reaper could either keep the charade going longer and torture the man's need for cheering up disheartened souls, or finish his delivery now by fulfilling the man's desire with a _nicely_ done-up ribbon.

Slowly giving a reluctant chuckle, the Reaper opted for the latter and smiled fauxly. "Th-Thanks…" Upon seeing the zippy, sunlight-imbued smile, the Reaper tried to make his feigned actions not obvious by casting his terrible mother out of his head. He allowed himself to genuinely smile for the fact that he didn't choose the former option. "Y-Yeah, I was talking about criminals, Mr. Maeda."

"O-Okay then! Uh…" The man drew back, the place where he rested a hand burning and the Reaper hyperaware of the weight previously present. Mr. Maeda rubbed his tan-skinned hands nervously, but also in embarrassment (the Reaper noticed), as he chirped, "I-I don't know what to think if criminals vanished, but it would mean they're not harming people- and that's a good thing, right?"

The Harrier smiled, blinking as satisfaction waved through him. **'Hook, line **_**and**_** sinker…'**

He nodded, and turned his head to look at Andy, whose face was pure red. She was silently laughing and seemed to resist the urge to bang her hand as she gasped for air from the apparent hilarity of the scene the Harrier made. He looked back with a glint in his brown eyes.

"That's what I was hoping…" he mused carefully, watching the man eagerly nod. Leaning closer, the Reaper lowered his voice. "Although, I _also_ have a request."

When innocent eyes snapped to attention, dark brown orbs slowly grew round as they flashed with fear as the Reaper darkly gazed back. "I find it disquieting that you eavesdropped on me and my friend's conversation… Even if we _were_ a tad loud, I _suggest_ you mind your own business. Does your manager encourage you and your coworkers to listen in on customers as much as possible, by chance, or are you just the noseiest one who is _all_ too eager for gossip material?"

Instantly, the man flinched. "U-Uh- I-I'm _actually_ the manager…" He tapped his index fingers together timidly when offering a small grin.

"Oh really? Then would it be so kind of you…" He curled his lips in disgust. "To allow _yourself_ to respect every person's _privacy_?" He leaned back slightly, sniffing in annoyance, "I find it _rude_ and _distasteful_, to be frank, and I think _you_ should know that you may lose out on business if you butt your nose into the lives of those who _don't_ concern you. I'm not a lawkeeper, but at least _I_ know when to point my ears away from personal conversations I don't belong to!"

Mr. Maeda backed away, gaping as he quivered. "I-I'm _sorry_\- I-I didn't mean to infringe- I-I thought I heard someone familiar- a-and-"

"_Save it_." The Harrier's eyes narrowed into slits and the man was sweating profusely in front of him. "Remember what I told you, and there shouldn't be an issue in the future."

And… that should do it. Time to make the curtains fall.

After the man nodded rapidly and squawked out many apologies, the Reaper relaxed his face and allowed himself to move his lips into a pleased smile. "Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Maeda. That's all I need."

..._End_ scene.

He went straight for the table, throwing down the Yen Pins he already counted up from the number of glasses of rice wine, whisky and water on the table... _including_ the one Andy spilt... and the table charge. He yanked his friend out of her chair and off of the table where she was gasping for air, maintaining a firm grip as he strode for the exit while fuming.

When they were both outside, the Harrier sighed in a huff, "We're not going back there- _No_ other izakayas either, Andy."

The only response Andy gave was her continued gasps and wheezes, finally slapping her closest knee with her left hand as she released gleeful snickers. With another sigh, he guided her along despite her buzzed complaints and how sleepiness made itself known to him.

"We have to go home…" he murmured as he squinted, the lights of the street taking on a rippling aura and the ground below him seemed to dip and waver. He grimaced, shaking his head and ignored the questioning babble from Andy as he edged them forward onto the road. **'Never again… never again for me to drink alcohol after that damn shitshow…'**

Automobiles rode on by, but the Reaper's pace didn't stop or freeze upon the toei bus phasing through him. He caught the sight of sleeping children leaning on their parents, yet pretended he saw nothing as he felt the weight of Andy against his back slowly become more prominent as the minutes went by. By the Scramble Crossing, he was carrying her on his back, trying his hardest to not succumb to his own exhaustion and own inebriation when staggering underground alongside the sibilant River.

Upon reaching the Barracks after veering off from the way to the Lounge, he paused to catch his breath, glancing between the female quarters and the males'.

Usually, he would knock on the door of Andy's quarters until a female Reaper answered it to shove Andy into her arms, giving the tart warning to make sure Andy got to her bunk… But for the current moment, he couldn't deal with this shit. He inwardly groaned when all his mind could focus on was how it would be nice to just sink down and sleep in front of the forking hallway, let his dignity be damned if he got odd looks the next day...

Whether it was the little whisky in his system or the exhaustion itself, he eventually turned into the males', shooing away a dozing person on a bunk beside his own, glaring back at everyone else when they gave him questioning stares. He challenged them silently, too tired to shout for them to leave him and Andy alone before settling her in then moving under his own covers. He kept watch despite how weariness tugged at him until they went about their own business, waiting longer until no more eyes were on him before sinking into his own creaky, stiff mattress.

It was not too long until everyone else turned in and slept soundly… yet he still laid awake.

...Not again.

He drummed his fingers gently along the bedframe, mulling over the day, yet the darkness around him invaded his pondering. It drew in the thoughts he hated, making him want to turn on a light to ease his worry but knew he would get another word from the Conductor if he did. Instead, he was left to his own devices and willed for himself to slip into unconsciousness, blinking his eyes open only to stirring Reapers before trying again.

No matter how hard he tried, the Harrier was still nursing the company of the darkness… He immediately cursed his luck for the slight given on to him again. It was _never_ comforting… being in the dark now. It always reminded him of what happened… How helpless he felt- how small he felt- how alone he truly was…

"_P-P-Please... I-I don't want to die..."_

The darkness felt darker to him… A blackness that would never stop growing darker… a shade that would never be driven away by light... and an unknown forcing him into anxiety and panic of what was hidden and what was watching him…

Just a _terrible_ darkness…

"_I-I don't… w-want to... d-die…"_

...Bad days.

Huh, the older Reaper's words earlier in the day came to him. However, he couldn't find himself appreciating how that man poked the younger's phantoms right in the eyes when the Harrier struggled with them all these weeks. He didn't _want_ to be told he was experiencing them- he didn't _want_ to have someone label them for him-

Yet now that someone had... the name and phantoms stuck around like hardened tar.

Too bad the bad days would _never_ go away, old man! Not _when_ they became fresh ideas that he wanted to wish away for a goodnight's sleep! He now lost all of the progress he's been working towards because of that stupid army man!

He could have _had_ a clean night number four... _now_ it was a far off fantasy!

Rolling over, he felt anxiously around his face, his shoulders, his waist… soon raggedly breathing before repeating the ministrations. His ears echoed, his skin tingled and of course, as always, his nose couldn't erase the scent of smoke and burning.

Trapped… to smell himself burning and suffocating under that _stupid_ hood…

That laughter… that _laughter_ he couldn't figure out...

Unable to move… unable to move _away_ from that _god awful _pain…

The heat was too much! He shuddered. _Too_ hot- _too_ much-

_Too_ _dark_!

The Reaper's breath hitched loudly. **'No- no- no- I just **_**wanted**_** a number four- dammit!' **He frantically grabbed the bed frame as he sat up, promptly patting his head, shoulders, waist… then gripped the thin, scratchy bed sheets tightly as he could. His hands could break for all he cared- he had to snap himself out of this! **'**_**Stop it**_**! Why did you have to hit the bullsye, **_**old man**_**\- **_**fuck you**_**, OLD MAN!'**

Even if he thought his chief complaint would be not sleeping on the floor in his futon when he first saw these stiff, rickety beds… it soon became apparent that wasn't the thing he should have fixated his worries on originally. The moment the light vanished each night to encore sleep, it only encored the bad days for him!

Dammit- why was he calling them that!? Argh- 'bad days'!? It was _so_ stupid!

**'This isn't the car… this is your bed...'** He tried to keep his _ridiculous_ sobs in, trying to breathe in and out deeply to stimulate the chemicals in his body to soothe this nightly episode _now_. He held himself tightly as he clenched his eyes closed. **'This **_**isn't**_** the car… this is **_**your**_** bed!'**

And yet, even though he reminded himself of that, his mind wouldn't stop forging those memories in frame-by-frame images. It all came in at once- flashing in front of his eyes like a film reel that maliciously refused to stop once the projector was started up…

* * *

_Stumbling_.

_Falling_.

"_Oh sh- _Ji-Ji_!"_

_Pain_.

_Agony_.

_Burning_.

_Screaming_.

"_Hold on, Ji-Ji- What the fuck- why _won't it_ budge!?"_

_Trapped_.

_Darkness_.

_Burning_.

"_Help me! _Somebody_! I can't get him out- he's stuck!"_

_Trapped_.

_Coughing_.

_Convulsing_.

_Burning_.

"_A-_Anybody_…!? I can't open it! I need to get him out!"_

_Yelling._

_Pleading._

_Coughing._

_Trapped_.

_Thrashing_.

_Screaming_.

_Burning_.

"_S-So _pitiful_… this is _just_ what I need."_

_Laughing_.

_Trapped_.

_Coughing._

_Burning_.

_Pleading_.

_Burning_…

_Coughing..._

"_At least you'll be happier with your father…"_

_Laughing_...

_Frozen_…

_Wheezing_…

_Gasping…_

_Dizziness..._

_Numbness_…

"_I'll take care of her for you now…"_

_Whispering_...

_Numbness_…

_Blackness_…

_Darkness..._

_Silence_...

_Nothing_…

_Only nothing but that darkn-_

* * *

The Reaper blinked in a daze, gasping and shuddering fiercely after a snort from close by alerted him.

With a quick glance, he unsteadily made out Andy rolling over in her sleep before he carefully checked his head, throat, chest and waist with small, timid touches of his fingers. His body slowly eased itself out of being locked up at some point during the scare he passed through successfully, leaving him in complete silence and unnerve.

**'This is… your bed,'** he told himself again weakly, quivering as he pressed his hands down against the mattress. He shuddered once again. **'This is… **_**your**_** bed... and you're **_**already**_** dead.'**

...Even though he saw the same scenes almost every night, he could never figure out how he lost his balance when checking the engine on that _damned_, dreary day.

As much as he wanted to blame that man, did the Reaper himself actually cringe involuntarily upon realizing who was behind him only to find himself falling? He wanted it to be the man who dated that woman, but what he could remember of what the man said didn't make sense.

Was that man too hysterical to help the Reaper? Or did he intentionally press his weight down on the hood to keep the Reaper pinned until he perished?

_Nothing_ added up...

His discombobulated mind immediately accused the man, scolding himself for glossing over the details that were so _plain_ to see. Yet another voice cried it _had_ to have been an accident! He couldn't side with either claim, there was hardly any evidence to begin with! Only the newspaper, the half-finished autopsy he gandered and got recriminations for when sneaking into the facility that was keeping his _own_ body for analysis, as well as the only witness to his own death…

That _scumbag_.

The _bastard_ who was now dead… because the Reaper _killed_ him.

That scumbag was dragged by the Reaper into the Underground, then was chased down until caged in for one final 'chat' before the Reaper Erased him out of blind rage.

The only person who knew… gone. The tight-lipped secret tiptoed around and never weaselled from that bastard's grasp despite all the tricks the Reaper had done to reveal the truth… was now haunting the Reaper to this day.

It was a mistake to Erase the man- the _only_ witness- the first he 'recruited'...

The final words started to toss around his head, distorted and taunting him as he unsteadily breathed.

_"Why don't you look at yourself, Ji-Ji... You were never one to accept me, yet you act like _I'm_ the bastard. At least you had your fun pretending to be the bigger man... because you'll _never_ grow up to be one. Getting rid of me will not make you feel better when you don't know who to look up to, but I dare you to Erase me! See if you still are the bigger man, Ji-Ji… see if you still are the bigger man…"_

It all pointed to that scumbag if he only focused on the statements… but it didn't help because none of it unveiled the concealed truth. It was the one time he failed to drag out anything from the man… leaving the Reaper to burn his failure away out of shame and frustration… and of satisfaction.

Sickening… it was all just _sickening_ and _disgusting_ and making him repulsed of what he felt during that shallow moment of 'victory'... Looking back, he knew- then and there- it was the point where he was no longer that polite, honest to good young man who tended to his mother's health and welfare as the sole workingman of the household.

Only a poor, unfortunate soul... who embraced death, and was scared of that damn shadow!

The same Reaper- a wayward soul clinging to what little he has left of himself- taking to the streets for ungrateful acts of justice to stop criminals from ruining other persons' lives!

Why _couldn't_ things go right for him!?

He only _wanted_ to do what was right!

The Harrier cried silently, covering his mouth in vain to conceal his weepings. And for the rest of the night, he tried to not vomit or yell out his aggravation.

He just wanted to pretend... a _little_ longer...

* * *

It was silent until the end of the night.

The daybreak bell peacefully chimed- if blaring horns mixed in with the gentle rings counted for that- and roused all those who dreamed to wakefulness...

He was awake in his bed as bodies stirred… having never slept.

Blinking, disturbed crusty flakes shifting off from his eyelashes, he groggily lifted his head as he squinted blearily. He lay in a daze, trying to piece together where he was until hoisting himself up and peering around confusedly before his eyes finally landed on an also awake- and probably hungover- Andy.

**'Number three…' **he thought grumpily, deciding the world could burn again today. The Harrier flopped back and struggled to pull his covers up. **'I just **_**wanted**_** a number four, **_**dammit**_**!'**

"Geit aupp!" Andy yelled, yet the Harrier steeled his grip in silence and refused to release the stupid, scratchy cloth they were calling 'blankets'. When he sensed her fingers clump a wad of the fabric, he immediately growled in frustration as his friend tried to wrangle it from him. "Berls haooting aahnd waon'tt shutt the _shiitt_ aup- sao geit the fuuck _aup_!"

"_Bite me_\- I don't give a _shit_ 'bout goin' _anywhere_ today!" he snapped groggily, pressing the blanket firmly to his chest as she pulled hard in return with a grunt. "Posh bastard can _suck it_…"

"_Aohkaay_-" She ceased the tug-of-war thankfully after that. He could make out her angrily putting her hands on her hips from under his flickering, dozy eyelids. "Yaaw'rre jaust being _ugry_!"

"Aw, shut up…" he grumbled as he rolled away to the wall, frowning deeply as he sighed, "If I could catch a wink… a _godsend_ wink… I will get my ass off this metal rack."

Suddenly, arms slung over his form, Andy groaning as she tussled with him to roll him back to face her again. She knelt down to gaze deeply into his mostly brown eyes and gave a hard, face contorting wink. He stared at her blankly for a long time, soon chuckling in dry amusement for a trice then grumbled, "If you're finished, let me sleep already…"

"Yaa gaott _yaawrr_ wiink, naow geit _aup_!" she spat shrilly as she grabbed his body, yanking it towards her roughly. This caused him to flail in surprise sloppily as he being itched towards the edge. "Yaaw'rre _hiszy_ becaause the Caounducttaorr shaatt ein _yaawrr_ caouffee tadaay!? _Huh_!? Fuuck yaa then folr mee caarring aabaoutt yaa!"

"Okay, okay-" he yelped, shoving her hands off before jolting to sit in his bed rigidly. "You _didn't_ have to almost give me a _concussion_\- " he groused in irritation while lashing his hands to wave her away from him again. Her only response was her grumpy face to mock him back as he was about to hiss, "_Sheesh_, _Andy_!"

She soon scowled and yapped back, "Yaa dedn'tt haave ta slreep folr _aahnee_ raongerr!"

"I _didn't_ sleep!" he spat in frustration as he rolled his legs over the edge of the stiff mattress, dangling them as he scoffed bitterly, "Number three… it was _not_ a number four, _dammit_!"

"Aoh…" She grimaced. "Aah nuumburr thrlee…"

He nodded stiffly. "Number three."

When she didn't respond, he took the time to quickly fix his hood, shiftily looking around before relaxing. **'No one saw… good.' **

Even though it seemed stupid to keep his hood up all the time, even as Summer was around the corner… he didn't like the idea of people knowing who he _had_ been. He was certain someone may recognize him, and he couldn't bear the thought of having to disappoint them that the guy they may have known was gone. The Harrier could confess he hated his new life in the Underground, especially how quickly he adapted to this harsh environment of kill or be killed… It broke his heart at the thought he was nothing more than a disappointment to the eyes of the other denizens here with Andy at his side. If he hurt people from allowing them to discover he changed into this… he couldn't imagine the thought of what to do then.

It was hard enough when he was a Player… Constantly, he was dragging around hero-complex morons left to right… watching them all succumb to Erasure. The Reaper remained through his wits and intelligence alone because he was the only one to ignore the obvious snares set out for them. It boggled and angered him when One to Five brushed him off when he was just trying to save them all… but then he met Number Six. Thankfully, Number Six listened to him.

Upon becoming a Reaper, he was slogging through choosing between his morals and principles and choosing between kill or be killed… He dragged his ass this far from adapting correctly; all that was left was a pseudo con-man for the Players, a competitor for his fellow vultures and a messenger for Andy's kills and lastly, he was Andy's only friend...

The Harrier hated lying and scheming, but he had to do it to make ends meet. He cycled through so many personas to just keep up with Andy's expectations and keeping himself from fading from existence. The only thing he recognized of himself was the burning urge to protect, not those close to him, but for all of Shibuya. From protecting that woman from the scumbag- he set his sights now to protecting Shibuya from her wrongdoers… He couldn't bear the thought of straying from his intended path now… yet loathed how parts of him peeled off the longer he walked it.

His father must have been turning in his grave still from how much the Reaper had changed, he supposed darkly. Idly, he tucked in a few more light strands of his hair that stubbornly fell out from under the hood, keeping the thought held up after he finished with the small bothersome action… Halting, he soon found himself squinting at a dark strand, blinking sleepily and slightly moving his head in surprise only to see it lighter coloured.

Great… a number four would have stopped the trick of the light from screwing with him! Today was just going to be shitty, _wasn't it_!? He internally seethed, lashing a hand to push it back under his black hood before huffing in annoyance. These early morning rouses will be the Erasure of him… He could already imagine the smug face of the posh bastard looming over him when the Harrier's body was deteriorating from… from… Aw, _fuck it_\- Hopefully coffee will be the fix for him! He'd have to let Andy know if she wanted to be in on the deal of sloshing coffee in their mouths to curb being hungover, as well as for him to cure his own fatigue!

A hand waving in front of him disturbed his aggravated thoughts. He flinched and blinked before Andy grumbled in annoyance, "Yaa thiinking taa muuch!"

"I was thinking for _good_ reason!" he growled back and sharply whipped his head away. He side-glanced her as he crossed his arms. "Ugh... what did I miss _this_ time, Andy?"

"AI aasked why yaa dedn'tt srleep!" she scoffed with a sharp cock of her head, grabbing his cheeks harshly with her slender hands to direct him to her face. Her grip didn't budge and all he saw was her fiercely glowing, furious amber-brown orbs. "_Rraay_ eit _aon_ Aahndee! Cuutt the _sheiitt_ yaa puuttting aon mah _brreaakfaastt_ _plraatte_! Aahnd _sttaop_ being hiszy- _diipsheitt_!"

"_Fibn alleddy_! Cogld yu lett 'o ouf _mye_ fayce firist?" he asked in annoyance, his face hurting from having to squirm in the lack of leeway her hands stole from his muscles. "Iey cann't talck rightt likk t'is, Aandiye!" She relented after releasing a raspberry and a huff right after, allowing for him to message his tormented cheek bone regions lightly before he scowled murderously at her. "..._Much thanks_."

"Kiindrlee aof yaa ta aask," she replied with an eye-roll, pretending to tip a hat to him if he guessed the actions correctly. She added coolly, "Naow… _taarlk_."

He huffed a sigh, shaking his head before trying to sit in a more comfortable position. As he looked back at his friend, he sagged his shoulders as he half-closed his eyes. "It's not rocket science…" he mumbled, idily scratching his chin and blearily catching her gaze. "Andy, you do know I don't sleep almost all the time… right?"

She gave a mere nod, leaving him to gather his thoughts on what to say next. "And last night was no different than last time- a-and I just... _hate_ _it_." He took a moment to pause, hoping he was doing his best to crunch the numbers with what little his sluggish mind had of available brainpower before continuing with a groan, "Three out of seven… That makes it… an average of two to three days per week of sleep on average thus far." He grimaced hard, huffing bitterly, "But I frankly believe it might be _more_ accurate to settle for two days instead…" He slapped a hand to his face, keeping it there as he muttered hollowly, "I'm surprised I'm still functioning enough as it is to not keel over and slumber out on the concrete yet... I-I'm basically a zombie out there, Andy…"

Boy, he felt exhausted… maybe woozy by the looks of everything swaying and felt nearly everyone's presence suffocating him… That former thought may come true today, he supposed grimly as he smacked his head lightly, hoping for his vision to correct itself.

There was just one thing he couldn't understand his about Psychomancy... When he was initially able to harness it as a Player, he hadn't gotten a Pin that could explain why he could just… _sense_ people. Not like the boloney that people keep droning on about psychics for, literally being able to tell where people are and knowing what those persons were doing! For him, it was as if his reflexes were honed drastically with a stone when he was in Stasis before his Day 1 started.

He couldn't understand another thing about that fact… why Andy could easily spook him out of his deep ponders if he suddenly had lightning fast reflexes in and outside of battle. Already he was facing enough problems from the posh bastard now and back then, as a Player, he didn't think it was worth mentioning he knew where people were. Number One to Five didn't get what he was trying to explain to them when he tried to steer them away from danger he somehow knew was waiting for them… why would anyone care now? If anything, the only use for his reflexes was in battle, but as a Reaper, battling once a Week on Day 7 against Players didn't cut it for him to not apply them elsewhere.

Players were only allowed to equip their Player Pins and six others for battling Noise if their Imagination was better attuned... that was the rule you had to remember by heart! Anything else was outlandish- from what he could pull from enough sparse interactions as a Reaper. But to his understanding... what counted as outlandish? Each definition he came by offered loose, polarized interpretations that made his head spin from trying to narrow it down to a synchronized theme... but from what he inferred, his tactical ability may have been what the Reapers were calling Arts.

The Harrier blinked, pulling his hand away as it shook- He blinked, placing the same, not shaking hand down. "First order of business… coffee after we get away from here, then we shall conduct our work as usual." She frowned at him as he sighed, slightly tipping one of his temples her way, "Because my mind can't seem to cease screwing with me this morning, Andy. All these Number Twos and Threes are stacking up on me, and I'm damn too exhausted to deal with anything but pitch our work out to others…"

He grimaced as he folded his hands in his lap, keeping them clasped as he lowered his head and tried to not drift off. "Well… what do you think?"

"Brress yaawrr heaarrtt…" She blew a long whistle at that. "Thaatt _liitttrle_?" Her amber-brown, rounded appalled eyes were focused on him, even if he didn't look up as pain prickled through his skull briefly. "Shucks… yaa mustt bee aas grlumpy aas aah beaarr whao's been faorrced aoutt aof his caave ein the middre aof Wiintterr becaause aof haow nao aone thaoughtt ta aask eif hee waantted ta sluumburr raongerr even thaough eit waas aofficiarree Splring by the daatte aon the caaraanderr bauutt the snaow waas sttiirl faarling aon the glaound!"

All he could do to react to that was pointedly stare at her. "How could you say all _that_ in one sentence?"

Her expression turned to one of pride, her hand resting over her heart as she smugly hummed, "Prlaacttice. Haad ta aouttdao aahll the neighburr kids becaause they thoughtt aI waas naott aone aof them… jaust aah weilrd Jaapaanese giilr whao waantted ta praay ein the mud when eit gaott scaolrching leike the sun waas giiving aus sugaarr bauutt wee dedn'tt waantt them becaause the sun caoulrd haave caootties leike aahll kids think giilrs dao baack then. Bauutt aI haad mah taongue srippelierr thaan aah snaake sunbaatthing aonree ta hiiss aahnd sttliike eif kids dedn'tt knaow beettterr aahnd waantted ta heitt the daarln thing becaause they think eit waon'tt lrunge aatt them!" She beamed widely. "_Haahaah_-_haah_..."

She frowned afterwards, looking glum as she lowered her molten gaze. "Bauutt aoverr helre? AI caoulrn'tt keeep aup witth aahll the tarlk aI reaalned becaause nao aone speaaks leike thaatt helre..." She sighed. "Eit's sttuupiid haow aI thaoughtt thiings waoulrdn'tt bee differlentt thaan baack ein Aahmelrikcaa… yaa knaow? AI waoulrd haave sttaayed aonree eif mah Paa aahnd Maa dedn'tt caonvince mee ta gao becaause they thaoughtt eit waas saafferr ein theilr haome caounttree-" She sharply pressed a hand to her chest, sniffling, "Jaapaan dedn'tt seem leike haome ta mee… Aahmelrikcaa haad been."

When he nodded, she raised her head again and held up her dictionary. "Naow aone taakes mee serliousry leike yaa dao, mah saweett bumpkeiin…" She scratched her head after pocketing her book, her gold and brown locks becoming ruffled as she dug what was left of her nails in when he slowly eased himself up to not hunch over. "AI waas grlaad yaa waas thelre ta sttaand aup folr mee yestterlday… Eif aI haadn'tt died… whao knaows eif aI caoulrd haandrle realning this aon mah aown?" Andy leaned closer, poking him in the cheeks as she added warmly, "Aone gaood perlsaon caan maake aup folr aahll the aones whao shaould liive ein the gaalrbaages becaauses they aain'tt the maan yaa aalre- aone the wuorld haas deselrved..."

He nodded with a heavy exhale, smiling at the complement as he rubbed at his eyes sloppily. "At least you didn't go the way I had to get here."

"Geeittting hiigh waas sttuupiid!" she snarked with an angry grimace as she lurched back onto the bed she occupied last night, crossing her arms while shaking her head slowly. "Drleenking aafterr waas aah misttaake." She stopped for a second or two before flicking her index finger in the air towards him, speaking softly with a sigh, "Aatt lreeaastt aI waas haalff aawaarre aouf eit beefaorre aI gaott mahselrf aoffed by thaatt laatte niightt caaberl caarr. Yaa gaott naottthing bauutt aah baag aof sheiitt ta caarlee aarlound weitth yaa…"

She scooted near the edge of the borrowed bunk, leaning closer to him again as she lightly pressed two coarse, gnawed fingernails against his temples. "Yaa knaow whaatt haappened… aahnd _thaatt's_ whaatt succks!"

Smiling in his grimace, he knew Andy was trying, but it wasn't working. No matter what, he couldn't forget what happened… what he _could_ remember, at least...

"Any stragglers who don't have the day off, come on out!" called a Reaper grouchily who popped their head in from the doorway. "Mission of the day debriefing is about to start! I know _none_ of us want to miss out on our Points or get the Conductor's panties in a bunch!"

Pulling at his black hood, feeling it protest from being stretched more than it should, the Reaper slowly rose. "We got work to do."

"Bauutt wee daon'tt haave aahnee morre tarrgeitts!" Andy groused with a raised eyebrow, her squinted eyes silently asking him the rest but he mouthed for her to wait. Clearly, her buzzed memories didn't translate into her thoughts for what she said had last night… now it was his job to smack her head a bit to get her back on track… He knew- even if he was tired with a headache starting to announce itself- he'd get her back on the ball in no time.

As he turned back to grab his knapsack, he blinked slowly and ran his gaze over his bed then widened his eyes. He knelt down, scrounging around and flipping through his memories of last night as Andy called, "Whaatt aarle yaa daoing?" He felt her waving towards the doorway, his head tinging as she added with urgency, "Thaatt Leaaperr saaid-"

"I'll be out soon!" he hissed, directing his scowl under his bed as he pawed the floor. "Just go on without me!" He raggedly breathed, pressing his eyes shut as he cursed. **'_Don't_ tell me someone stole my knapsack- it's the only thing I have!'**

Upon hearing the click of shoes, he jerked his body up to see the Reaper from earlier towering over him. With a huff, the Harrier hoisted himself up and grumbled, "I'm going, I'm going..." He shoved past the Reaper, feeling his stress and anger bubble through his blood. As he left the room, bolting through a group of female Harriers and Supports, he kept going until he fell in step with Andy who gave him a curious look before he shook his head.

**'I'll worry about being broke later!'** he thought sharply in disappointment. **'For now- the actor has to maintain his mien in spite of grief.' **Inhaling deeply and slowly, he hoped he appeared more presentable and composed to his fellow Reapers when they started to flank them.

As they followed the other slow moving masses into creating the congregation waiting for the Reaper of the hour, they were soon being pushed back to peer with jealousy at those resting in the lavish lounge ahead. The Harrier Reaper side-glanced back to a disgruntled Andy as he waited for the Conductor to start his speech, noticing how she swayed with a sigh of impatience. He glanced forward the moment he heard the Conductor. "Today is the final Day-"

Ignoring the rest of the rubbish spewing from the posh man's lips, the Reaper shifted closer to his companion. Upon getting her attention, he whispered warily, "We're not going on an escort mission today, we're going on a _nice_ name hunt for our cause."

All she did was smirk and wink back.

"Brace yourself for a long day, I'll fill you in more later," he added whilst shrugging, starting to fan out his wings to annoy the Reapers neighbouring them only to freeze. Right... the posh bastard took them away. He immediately seethed, instantly feeling a prickle from the muscles protesting back as a reminder. **'Okay- what to do.. what to do...'** If those vultures were listening in on them, he had to deter them from doing so! His plan for 'accidentally' hitting them with his wings was now thwarted... so else could he do?

He kept close to Andy, refusing to move away until he had a solid course of actions in mind. It unnerved him a lot... of the idea that people were spying on him, people watching him... Call him pessimistic all you want, but lately it felt as if someone was deliberately watching him. Perhaps this was what the posh bastard meant when the Reapers knew of Andy and his aspirations... that they were going to be put on watch... He felt the urge to scratch at his arms when they itched irritably, yet held himself away from inflicting that kind of display in public. It wouldn't do to make a scene because...

The Harrier brightened upon getting an idea.

Might as well make this a good show for them!

Immediately, he began to side-step on the spot before moving his nimble feet away from Andy and onto the heels of the Reaper in front of him. The Harrier flailed his arms as he jerked back into a Reaper, who cried out their ire, before tottering around to the dismay of all the Reapers shooting him sharp scowls. He siphoned and savoured their noncommittal grumbles in the tiny space he shuffled in, bracing himself seconds before he seized his muscles-

Falling sideways to his right.

He pressed his eyes closed when he felt himself collide with the Reaper flanking him seconds before being shoved away then meeting the floor with his face. He kept himself from yelping the best he could and remained sprawled out, letting his self-induced dizziness sway his mind and allowed himself to keep still and limp. His earlier exhaustion returned, which he wasn't planning for, but reached for it as long as possible to doze on the ground.

Even if this was the Plan B, hopefully this would serve a warning to keep those Reapers to themselves and not him and Andy. He would rather be a shit disturber to ward off the vultures bothering him anyday… For all he cared, they could _all_ suck it!

"What happened!?"

"Did that Reaper just faint!?"

The Harrier had to fight off the content groan he wanted to release. **'At least I get a chance to close my eyes for the next bit...'** Even if his face ached, his body scolding him for harming it... this was _all_ worth it. He didn't expect to have someone push him back, but the Harrier thanked the sucker for making things worse- in the best way possible!

"Why did you do that!?"

"I didn't know the Reaper was fainting!"

"You may have hurt him!"

"Him!? It could be a girl under that hoodie!"

"Fuck... I heard him talking to his friend, and that wasn't a cute girl, _asshole_!"

**'Knew it!'**

"I'm _sorry_\- alright!"

"Check his pulse then if you're _so_ sorry about it!"

Man... it actually felt nice being on the ground...

It wasn't long before hands grabbed his left arm, pressing against his inner wrist before he groaned out inadvertently. He flickered his eyes open instantly, exhaling shallowly while lolling his head to rest on his right ear- as awkward as it was with his current position- before mumbling softly, "Wh-What..."

"Are you okay?" an unknown voice asked, and he refused to answer before slightly shifting his head. "Look, I didn't mean to-"

Sluggishly moving to sit up, he let himself sway before planting his left palm down to 'ground himself'. Gradually he rested his other hand over his face, groaning to continue stroking the ploy, "Wh-Why does my head hurt...?"

As bickering started above him again, he kept his head drooped as such joie de vivre pranced inside him, hearing Andy groaning while helping him up. She struggled when he kicked to get his footing steady, feeling her try to balance him herself. Andy kept her arm slung across his back and under his right arm when he blinked slowly, letting himself gag. The next moment he faintly heard a Reaper talk to Andy before he was being turned around and led through a crowd-

Who was _staring_ right at him.

Straightaway, he mentally screamed for them to stop looking at him; trying not to let that translate into his body language as he kept himself staggering with Andy.

He didn't know if the Conductor could see them back here, but he couldn't just allow himself to finish his little skit until they were at a safer distance. All he did know was that the posh bastard must have informants on the ready. It had to be the Officers… the Harrier couldn't imagine them _not_ sipping rice wine and acting high and mighty in the lounge as the posh bastard's nobles. The Conductor tended to not lower himself to speak to the 'peasants', and from enough encounters, it wasn't hard to understand that the posh bastard saw himself as royalty most of the damn time. Even the youth were disregarded as if they were _mere_ specks of dust on his impeccable multi-layered cream, white and gold suit.

It sucked that the Harrier couldn't find a single Officer to report his questions and concerns to because they were the damn mutts of the posh bastard. _None_ of them were worth the Harrier's time to pester when he had other things to worry about for himself and Andy. He wouldn't be surprised if they were Imprinted to maintain their _ridiculous_ perfection and pristine...

His head felt fuzzy just as he realized they weren't moving to the back- they were going forward! Dammit- maybe the success he was riding on was now inverting on him! He couldn't lose this performance now when they were practically entering the radar of the Officer Reapers _and_ the Conductor himself! He groaned quietly- hopefully sounding dazed and not frustrated- while letting himself lean against his friend as it seemed she was being instructed to situate him on a... wow. It certainly was nice to sit on this.

Even if he was faking it before, he couldn't help but be dizzy now from the overwhelming sensation of this couch's texture and how snoopy eyes were burning into his flesh.

...That posh bastard _was_ letting the Officers live in a lap of luxury! Fuck that man for letting them have this when his bunk was utter shit!

Shifting, the Harrier couldn't help but cast fugitive sneers the man's way as his immoderate speech continued without falter. Even if the man was acting as he usually had, the Harrier knew the Conductor wasn't happy for the disruption the Harrier caused. As a few Officers began asking him questions when the Conductor was finishing up, he refused to lower his hood despite how insistent they were for him to do so. He felt his body go rigid while curling in on himself, trying to appear smaller to ward them off despite how small he actually felt being in this Lounge full of the posh bastard's mutts- or to be frank now- _trapped_ in this den of lions and bears!

Trembling, he wished he could control his body now as he felt gazes continue to train on him... **'St-Stop it... d-don't _look_ at me!'**

Why couldn't they mind their own business instead of dissecting him like an insect with their interest in him!? Why did his plan have to backfire on him to subject him to this torture!? Why did these Reapers care so much when he was below them!?

As the Conductor briefly glanced his way, Reapers dispersing to do their tasks for the final Day of the Week, the Reaper flushed in anger when he knew someone was still watching him. He felt their eyes on him, yet he couldn't make out who it was. If his 'fainting spell' was enough for 'concern', being agitated by whoever it was wasn't making his predicament better.

All he did was remain silent in his vexation, frowning as he grimly let the Officers tending to him continue with their fussing, poking and prodding.

* * *

After a long, gruelling period of being tormented by questions from Officers and the posh bastard himself, it had been deemed he must have experienced a burnout. He merely accepted their recommendation to take it easy for the next few days, finding himself too overwhelmed to weasel his way out from being clustered for far too long.

Even if the Officers disagreed on letting him outside, he luckily had Andy vouching for him needing fresh air to settle their complaints. He couldn't remember all the details they rattled him with, which was why he was glad he could finally breathe out here and away from them while leading Andy around on the streets. Being inside would only make him...

He told himself he'll explain what happened at a later time. Andy seemed stressed out, and he didn't want to have her storm off before they even begun their work for today...

Stretching, the Harrier tugged at his hood after exiting the supply shop. Without his trusty knapsack, Andy spared him some of her Yen Pins to go collect what he thought they needed, so he knew he owed her for the amount he sparingly used. It still frustrated him that someone took his knapsack without him realizing it... so he hoped this wouldn't become a theme for him to rely on Andy forever. He had decided until he gathered up new funds for a new one, he'll crunch the numbers of what he used to make it up to her for the circumstances.

The Harrier had two ballpoint pens and a medium, black notebook in hand as he joined his friend by the curb. "We got our mode of writing, pathfinding in mind…" he mused thoughtfully as he flipped through the crisp, lined pages. He sniffed after finishing his inspection of their weapon of choice for change before he slightly glanced at the noisy pageturn of Andy's dictionary. He pressed his lips flat and tilted his head a smidgen. "All that is left now is to brew up a pitch to _woo_ the audience before we raise the curtains."

She turned her head curtly to look at him. "_Naaw_, aahll yaa need iz yaawrr snaake eiyez _aahnd_ yaawrr faancee wulrds," she quipped with a cock of her head, chuckling heartily as she narrowed her eyes slyly. "Yaa thiink taa muuch… Whyy daon'tt yaa jaust gao folr eit instteaad aouf aahll thisz sttuupiid _sttaaalring_?"

"If I don't advertise us right the first time, we'll just be pestering them the next," he flatly intoned with an unimpressed raise of an eyebrow then sighed, "And you don't have to be worried because you're not the one who's going to perform our shitstorm."

**'_Especially_ when everybody knows you 'fainted' because of your 'burnout'...'** he sneered in annoyance to himself. **'Now I have to work even harder than I _thought_ I would if I don't want people assuming I'm just peddling them for sympathy after my earlier fucked up performance!'** He shifted, clenching his hands only to stop upon remembering he had precious cargo resting in them. **'Even if no one saw what I really look like, I know they _won't_ forget what happened to that _wingless_, poor, syncoper!'**

She blew a raspberry while waving a hand sharply down in dismissal. "Yaa maake thiengs _morre_ caomplricaatted thaan teaaching yaa ta squaarre daaunce!"

"Then don't teach me how to square dance," he crisply said in annoyance, soon adopting a cool smile and tweaked his tone to be cheeky. "Leave the diplomacy to me, and you can keep the fancy footwork to yourself."

"Heh." She simply grinned. "AI caan wulrk weitth thaatt."

Inhaling, he closed his eyes, trying to wrack his brain for any possible conversation starters to best equate to the relevance of their crusade. Being overly polite would make some of their potential supporters believe he was wearing too big of dress-shoes, so keeping it down within the moderate notch would supply enough respect from those who did appreciate it. He had to be frank, not twist his words around like the Conductor did, if the Harrier Reaper was to get their message across without confusion- not fumble with his words like last night at the izakaya. And- _most_ _importantly_\- they couldn't barter, trick, or make promises they couldn't keep. The last thing they needed was to rub all the Reapers the wrong way and expect a big profit in return…

"_Hey_\- you two!"

Widening his eyes, he turned his head only to scowl at the brash army man from yesterday. The man was wearing an ear to ear grin for some ungodly reason as he watched them from across the street. **'Him **_**again**_**?'** the Harrier thought in annoyance, immediately tucking the notebook under his arm and shoved the ballpoints into his trousers. **'**_**Don't**_** tell me Sadist Saiyama is being sicced on us by that posh bastard now!'**

"Heard that Americana became an honourary man last night!" the burly man grunted out brazenly as he lumbered over slowly, heavy steps made by the still disregarded mud-caked boots. If the Harrier could guess, the army man never washed them probably out of pride to wear the blood and glory… Huh, from that uniform alone, those boots should have fallen apart by now. The army man thumped his chest as he barked out gravelly guffaws, "If Oshiro caught wind of the booze on you, he wouldn't have _bothered_ to continue his speech before tearing you apart in front of all of our comrades!"

Wait- they smelled like alcohol!? The Harrier widened his eyes in appall, shakily bringing his sleeve up only to wince. Why didn't he notice that!? Those who hated alcohol will just snub them right off the bat, wrinkling their noses as they walked off in displeasure of the terrible pungent stench! Him and Andy had to swap out their clothing for something different- after shaking off chatty Sadist Saiyama here before they did anything else for the foremost. Wait- he couldn't just change out of his set Reaper uniform- he didn't _have_ another uniform to wear!

**'_Dammit_!'** He felt hot tears threatening to leak out, but he sniffed sharply and shook his head to himself.** 'Stay calm... you can't lose yourself now because Sadist Saiyama is slapping you in the face with the obvious!'** He gritted his teeth, silently trying to stop himself from trembling when he realized he was starting to quiver. **'_Damn_ you, old man... I was just starting to relax!'**

Sadist Saiyama stopped, holding his chin with his whole calloused hand. It appeared he didn't notice what effect his words were having on the Harrier- or was he just ignoring the Harrier!? "Don't know if any squealers got to him about you snoozing on down with us guys yet, _but_ I'm sure you're okay for _now_..." He narrowed his eyes at the Harrier as he added brightly, "_But_, the burnout I heard about may have just barely saved both of your hides!"

The Harrier couldn't stop himself from tensing at that last part before sharing a wary look with Andy. Her molten, honey-coloured eyes were dark with the same suspicion- which was comforting to see- and the Harrier cautiously stared back to study the overly-cheery goliath. "...What do you want?" he asked coolly as he frowned.

For a second, the man's gruff face twisted, then a certainly unnatural, friendly smile morphed onto his face. "_What_… not _happy_ to see me?" He opened his arms wide while speaking- was he _expecting_ them to skip on over and hug him!? The Harrier had _enough_ of this nonsense!

The Reaper scoffed, "Look, we don't have _time_ to entertain you-" A protestful flash went through the hulking man's eyes. The grizzled, dark haired man was grounding out an exclaim of disbelief as the Harrier went on frigidly, "We just met _yesterday_, so drop the ploy of chumminess because I would like to think you expressed enough that we _both_ know you want something from us."

A blustery exhale was released from the man's lips. "Alright, alright… you clearly _are_ the brains of the pair…" He dropped his arms. "You got me." He raised them up again to cross them, grunting as he growled when he glanced at a streetlight, "Ever since I had to drag your sorry behinds out of your squabble with Oshiro, I can't forget your faces for the life of me!"

"Oh, I'm _very_ sorry we plagued you in that way," sneered the Harrier as he placed a hand over his heart. The Reaper rolled his eyes as the man scowled back, soon lifting his hand up again to wag his finger in the air mindfully. "I heard the best solution for that is to distance yourself from what you want to forget- so how about-"

"_Shut your pie holes!_" bellowed the army man, swinging an arm into the streetlight pole, causing the Harrier to jump at the glass shattering and the pole yielding to the incursion. It timbered over onto the sidewalks, barely missing Realground pedestrians who nearly walked into the path of destruction. The reactions were as expected: Terrified screams and panicky fleeing that raised alarm to the rest of the aghast bystanders.

The Harrier felt his frozen body slowly regain control as the scene of havoc continued on; the tingle of thousands of people shooting through his limpid form (if they actually saw him) became more apparent. He managed to set his wide eyes on the approaching behemoth who finished getting off the road. The Harrier gritted his teeth after making a strangled noise in his throat, just as the man was stopping in front of the younger Reaper.

Before doing anything else, the bulkier man raised his hand up only to blow on his knuckles briefly. He was sighing without revealing any indication he actually felt the agony of what should have been obliterated bones. "As I was _saying_…"

"Whaatt the _heell_ dao ya waantt weith aus!?" screeched Andy (in the shrillest, banshee-esque voice he's ever heard from her) as she backed away. "Aahnd _whaatt's_ yaawr _prroblrem_!?"

"You could have hurt someone!" the Harrier yelled in rage; finally feeling his nerves reconnect and jerked away to point both of his arms at the victimized streetlight. "You nearly _killed_ innocent Realground citizens!" He gritted his teeth harder as he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Do you _understand_ what you've just _done_!?"

"They'll _live_..." growled the hulking Reaper uncaringly with a sneer on his face and shrugged, soon locking his murky gaze with the Harrier. "Stop acting like I toppled our small skyscrapers and they're falling like dominos as you're bellyaching about the method to my madness."

The Harrier felt himself flinch upon looking deeply into the man's burning orbs. He couldn't help but shudder briefly, glowering back darkly when the man went on, "As I was… SAYING…" He snorted before grunting, "I did some digging, and _boy_, the things I heard about you two brats is enough to make me wonder if someone raised you like headless chickens!" He leaned closer, rotten teeth toothily peeking out of the man's curled lips. "Heard about how you go out of your way killing people- heck! Why are you making me out to be the bad guy and brabbling about me knocking over a _rusty_ old traffic hazard when you're raiding the Realground and gunning people down!?"

...What?

"Traffic hazard?" the Harrier queried quietly in confusion, blinking and feeling his anger instantaneously drain out. "Wh-What traffic hazard?"

"_Hmph_." The man jabbed a sausage finger at the downed light-source.

For a long time, the Harrier kept his sight on the burly man, soon narrowing his eyes to slits before sighing. He turned, padding carefully up to the decapitated base and knelt down to inspect.

There were brown webbings of the characteristic signs of corrosion, gasping upon noticing the fallen pole had a huge chunk missing from it. When he glanced around himself while standing up, he couldn't find traces of it in the streets from his vantage point. How the burly Reaper's blow struck it should have left incriminating evidence of the missing pole's chunk on the road! Or- for the chipped metal flakings to be scattered about the region the pole had crashed down on! Unless-

He widened his brown eyes.

The pole must have had a gaping hole in it already! And- fundamentally- that meant the remaining foundation wouldn't be able to hold the pole up for much longer! How could the general public ignore the telltale danger when it was just staring them in the face!?

The Harrier mentally took a step back. He reminded himself when you had places to be after a long work day, or sitting through many gruelling hours of 'boredom' in school (he actually thought school was a blast), you may not perceive your surroundings as well as you should. There were many accidents from falling construction, or casualties from automobiles hitting distracted persons, that you may initially write it off as more morons entering the radar. Only that you may very well be wrong- as you're simply the one at fault for not considering the other variables in the overall equation.

People could be stressed or upset-

Someone could have dumped someone when everything seemed to be going right-

A family member may have died-

The family pet may have died-

Perhaps someone has a big, fat loan they can't pay off, and they're about to face repercussions for it-

It wasn't their fault, and yet- you wouldn't care because you don't know them! In fact- no one cared because they're too preoccupied themselves to have that thought pass through their thick skulls!

That was a sad, hard truth people haven't even learned about in this day and age… Not even the oldsters could make excuses to defend themselves of it... everyone can be at fault for it.

The Harrier's expression softened immediately into sadness. **'He... s-saved them... yet I-'** He closed his eyes shamefully. **'Yet _I_ didn't even see it when we got here... and I'm acting like he's the-'**

"Could have hurt someone _another_ _day_ if it gave way from something else…" growled the army man with a snort, snapping the Harrier out of his thoughts. He turned just as the man was nasally sucking in air before the Harrier cringed at the disgusting sound of the man spitting onto the ground. The man then gave a thrash of his head. "Imagine the horrors that _could_ have been!" He huffed and frowned ugily, "Hate to have seen it happen tomorrow… next Golden Week…" The shaggy haired man raised a sausage finger and pointed it abruptly at the Harrier Reaper as he grimaced hard. "You don't know _when_, it, will, happen!"

Nodding jerkily, the Harrier grimaced as he felt sweat roll down his face. "R-Right…"

Andy walked over, tilting her head as her expression scrunched up. "Whaatt aarre yaa ceelrbrraatin' aaboot aah faalring strreetlright folr?" Her voice had returned to its normal, alto croakiness.

The Harrier widened his eyes, instantly facing her as he sputtered out, "_Andy_, that streetlight could have fallen over and hurt someone _later_!" He pointed at it, desperately searching her expression for any sign of astonishment or horror… but all he got was a noncommittal shrug.

"Aahll thaatt maattterrs eis eit dedn'tt, rlightt?" she asked in confusion, shaking her head as she crossed her arms. "Jaust aah _sttuupiid_ strleettlrightt…."

As a protest started up in his throat, the Harrier froze once he realized he was missing a certain weight under his arm now. Upon spotting the burly man was closer to the curb, leaning down, the Harrier burst forward. He lunged to his hands and held his weight on his knees to scoop the medium-sized object up before pushing to his feet hastily.

Spinning around, he scowled at the man who raised his hands up in surprise and disgruntlement. "I was just picking it up for you," the man grumbled irritably with a snort. "No need to _bite_ my hand…."

"I'm _quite_ qualified to pick up my own belongings, old man," he hissed back in annoyance, sniffing as he turned away as the man growled in anger at that. "And I'd rather _not_ have someone touching my belongings when I see _no_ reason to trust them enough to invade _my_ personal space."

"You young people are _so_ _peckish_ and _flighty_!" groused the man with a great big roll of his eyes. "I didn't even get a thank you for stopping you from slugging Americana during your episode yesterday!"

"Yeah _right_, like I'm _grateful_ for you stomping on over and involving yourself when I had _everything_ under control!" he spat back in a scoff, lashing a hand forward as he went on in seething, "If your _goal_ was to give us a damn demonstration on how your crackpot streetlight slaughter was to make us _understand_ that you are our _friend_\- then _think again_ because you're _just_ getting in the _way_ of our _work_ today!" He narrowed his eyes as he snarled furiously, "I can't _afford_ to let you make _fools_ of us, _old man_! I _shouldn't_ be angry right now because_ I _have to be the one to pitch our cause or we'll _never_ be heard!" He clenched his eyes shut, breathing out louder and shriller, "Do you _hear_ me!? Now I'm _pissed_ _off_!"

"Hmph, does it I look like I'm _deaf_?" grumbled the man in a sharp huff.

"I don't _care_\- stop _bothering_ us!" he yelled harshly, breathing unsteadily afterwards. He breathed out quieter with a rasp, his throat burning from how raw his vocal cords felt now, "We just want them to _listen_… is that too much to _ask_ for!?"

"And _who_ do you want to listen to you two?"

He sputtered out weakly, "The C-Conductor… _fuck_\- wh-why not j-just the C-Composer for crying out loud!?" He snapped open his shining eyes as he stepped forward, putting his right hand over his heart. "S-Surely… He would listen to us. If we're heard by anyone, _anyone_, the best bet may _be _the Composer Himself!" He clenched his hands, gripping a wad of fabric from his pungent hoodie as he looked at the ground while he growling, "The Conductor _sure_ is a stubborn ass- so even if we did give him our list I know for a fact he'll just rip it up- because he sees us as the _scum_ and _dirt_ that he _walks_ _on_!"

An amused laugh wasn't the response he wanted from the old man…

Instantly, he felt small and meaningless; his body and hands going slack. **'What are we thinking… w-we're going to just be seen as **_**jokes**_**!'** The laughter became louder and hearty, rubbing more salt into the realization as warmth started to form behind his eyes. **'Wh-Why can't things go r-right for me for once…? N-Nobody **_**cares**_**, a-and no one will **_**ever**_** understand…'**

"And…?"

He picked his wilted body up, keeping his head tucked down as he mumbled miserably, "And what?"

"'And what'!? _Boy_, you didn't give me your pitch yet!" snapped the army Reaper tartly. The Harrier sighed, feeling even more downhearted because that was part of it. "_What_? Was that _all_ you had for your pitch!? That you want the Composer to _listen_ while _badmouthing_ the Conductor because you think he's a _stubborn ass!_? _Seriously_!?" The Harrier jerked his head up in disbelief, now alert as he watched the man slap a large hand over his face and tug it down with a groan, "Ugh… _young people _these days..."

"O-Of course _not_!" protested the Harrier hotly with unsteady head shakes, indignantly going on a second later, "We want recruiting to become legal in the Underground!"

"Recruiting?" repeated the grizzled goliath, crossing his arms as his lips went flat. "This better not be youngster jargon-"

To the Harrier, everything around him was slowing down as his vision for his and Andy's cause began to break apart.

"- for doing unsavoury activities-"

This man just didn't get it... The Harrier's ears began to buzz as static started to wrap and crackle over his sight.

"- because of their desires for-"

The Harrier didn't _want_ to let the message die off because Sadist Saiyama was bulldozing and knocking the Harrier off his feet at every opportunity to speak his case!

...No more being a pushover! He _had_ it-

He had to push _everything_ now into delivering the very core of his cause-

_Or he never will_-

**'_Time_ to _shine_-'** he thought boldly, flattening his lips slowly and inhaling shallowly as his heart began to beat faster. **'Let's _put on_ a SHOW!' **His eyes sharpened immediately.

He tightened his hands as his vision became rapidly tunnelled, focusing solely on the damn old man as everything began to speed up.

"We will _kill_ wrongdoers and _drag_ them onto our Plane to _dish out _what they _deserve_!" the Harrier Reaper cut in abruptly, the rest of the man's sentence becoming lost the moment the younger spoke. He took a deliberate step forward towards the army man, frowning darkly as he forced as much volume and conviction as he could into his next delivery. "To _never_ see the light of day _again_\- To _vanish_-" He clenched his hands as he murmured the rest in a low tone, "By _Erasing_ them _ourselves_…"

He watched as the larger man's expression slowly transformed into disgust and suspicion, yet the smaller Reaper ignored it to chuckle at the thought of actually being able to enact what he proposed. He grinned openly, stepping back to murmur more, "It isn't as bad as you might think… In fact, it's been on my mind since the first time I did it." He felt adrenaline course through his veins, feeling lightheaded as he raised his voice. "It didn't disgust me as much as I thought it would- it was _thrilling_! I remember the chase like it was yesterday, and _trust me_… it was _nothing_ like hunting down normal Players!" He half-opened his arms. "And you know why?" He hardened his expression as he brought them to his chest. "I had a sense of purpose- I wasn't mindlessly Erasing like I usually did-" He grinned harder as he exclaimed intensely, "I was exterminating _real_ vermin!"

The Harrier slowly pulled a hand away from his heart, whisking it gently as he explained with fervour and laughter, "Why can't we just make them go away forever… if it means _no one_ else becomes a victim?" He stilled his hand as he pointed it at the man in front of him, sweetening his tone. "Surely, you, Sadist Saiyama, understand what must be done."

He stopped himself from laughing more, feeling his heart thud strong as he caught sight of two gleeful thumbs up from Andy. It hardened his resolve- making him dizzy as he shifted his focus back on the man who _didn't_ _understand_. "If we sit here and _do_ nothing, then there _will_ be hurt people. Not _just_ hurt- Mentally scarred… Tortured souls… Disabilities onto those who will wish they _had_ died at the thought of not being able to see, walk, or to watch _every_ other second of their lives without the means to live it because they've lost control over their bodies from being preyed upon by _paralysis_. And _why_ did this _happen_...?"

The Harrier frowned deeply, feeling every fibre of his face contort from his thoughts centering on the very answer. "Wrongdoers... _Wrongdoers_ are all but to be exterminated- and they are the scum that can _never_ be forgiven." He clenched his eyes shut as he went on, "You will _never_ be safe even if they are put behind bars- because _once_ they're let out… you don't know if they truly are as good as they claim to be. They're just _biding_ their time until they're released to repeat what damage they have strung onto society before, but _once again_!" He shook his head, dropping his arms to clench both of his hands. He opened his eyes while his face hardened. "The only way to truly keep the streets safe is to use what power we have been given: The power to _end_ their existence!" He shifted his gaze to the side as he angrily growled, "Why can't we make a difference and _do_ the world a _favour_!? Why are they _leashing_ us like _dogs_!? We _need_ to take _action_! These streets are not just _for_ the Realground, it's just as much _for_ the Underground as well!"

Blinking while panting for air when his head spun, he was soon gazing back at the man intently. "Can't you _see_!?" he shouted boldly, whipping his right arm outwards as his left struck his chest. "_We_ can stop them!"

As Andy wordlessly stared at him, soon rotating her head to the largest of them, the Harrier waited expectantly but couldn't read the man's expression. It was pulled tightly, looking painful yet the Harrier knew the man was in ponder. What frustrated the Harrier the most was the anticipation he was forced to sit through for the agreement he sought...

When the burly army man closed his eyes, he growled, "And what happens after?"

Caught off guard, the Harrier stiffened and frowned. "Th-Then they're gone."

"And _what_ happens after?" the man repeated grimly, crossing his arms. "Mind telling me _what_ happens after?"

"There's not really an after," the Harrier explained breathlessly as he dropped his arms, relaxing the rest of his body and smiling again a split second later. "We keep doing it."

"Then you're telling me there's no end to your…"

"Recruiting." He nodded, although he was confused about what the old man was trying to get at. "If we stop, then the streets will be flooded with them again." He blinked slowly, tipping his head down with a frown. "We have to keep doing it- or our pursuits will be for nothing... Once the wrongdoers believe we're done with them, they will start again and wreak havoc as they had." He put a hand over his heart again, searching the man's gaze as he raised his head to murmur, "Safety for those who are preyed upon by them is priority over all."

A slow sigh escaped the older Reaper's lips, pursing them after staring down the Harrier for half a minute. "...Who are the wrongdoers?"

Immediately, the Harrier shook his head wildly, gaping at the army man. "_What_?" The man started walking away, leaving the Reaper to trail behind and chase after him in a panicked jog. "Don't be daft with me- What do you mean 'Who are the wrongdoers?'!?"

As he caught up, his fingers taking hold on the grimy fabric of the half-tattered sleeve of the uniform unsteadily, the larger man halted but didn't turn to face him. "Are you hard of hearing, _boy_...?" Slowly, the Harrier let go from surprise, speechlessly staring up as one of the man's murky, swamp green eyes flickered to him. "Do you know _who_ your targets _are_?" He swung around abruptly, his face twisted in a sneer, hardened eyes making the Harrier step back only for the man to lumber closer until his face blocked the Harrier's view.

The man barked out harshly into the Harrier's face, "Your fantasy of shucking off and doing our cheap parlour trick of making things disappear completely from existence can _never_ be fully realized! You glorified it- you prioritized it- but you _forgot_ the most, important, _thing_!" He breathed out heftily, narrowing his eyes to slits as a deadly glint emitted from them. "Who _are_ the wrongdoers?"

Miffed by the man's stubbornness, the Harrier huffed. He pushed his chest out indignantly, retorting, "For your information… I didn't expect a geezer like you to understand." He clenched his trembling hands, feeling his body go rigid as he coldly went on, "It's simple: Criminals... Anyone who tries to cheat the justice system… Murderers… Do I _need_ to bring out a thesaurus, or can you connect the _rest_ of the damn _dots_!?" He whipped out his right arm, keeping his left snugly against his side the- he widened his eyes. Quickly crouching down to grab the fallen notebook, he then tucked it snugly under his arm to keep the notebook from dropping yet again with a grimace.

He faced and scowled at the man, his gaze darkening, flexing his right arm and clenching his hand while taking a step forward. "They're running loose on the streets- _all_ of them!" he started again, confidently pulling his hood down to only allow for the older man to see his sharp eyes as he snarled, "Those bastards _need_ to pay! This is _our_ city- why not keep it safe for those who _cannot_ do so _themselves_!?"

Swiftly tugging his hood to hide his face again, he then stomped hard into the cement. "I _will_ ensure it-" He thumped his chest, squared his shoulders, yet turned away from the man. He used the same hand to press it abruptly to his forehead that he tipped towards the sky, refusing to properly do the Reaper's Allegiance for this fool and yelled, "_Even_ if I will be _Erased_ for it!"

As he was about to relax his stance, he heard a single clap.

Stiffening, his eyes darted to see another Reaper in a red hoodie, who was awkwardly looking around while his hand movements stilled slowly. **'W-What…?' **The burly Reaper frowned in disbelief, shifting his head around as the shorter Reaper now noticed they gained a crowd at some point...** 'H-How… W-Why…?'** He widened his eyes. **'Oh.'**

It hit the Reaper... he was _doing_ the Reaper's Alliance informally _to_ the crowd.

Upon watching the man grimace hard from the corner of his eye, the Harrier slowly eased himself into standing normally to gaze in astonishment back at the eyes of other Reapers. Usually he hated having people look at him… but noticing how rapt their focus was on him- how one of the Supports with their hood down was tugging on the sleeve of a lanky one (once they drew closer) while looking like they were excited- made him backpedal on that discomfort for the first time in roughly two months. With a further inspection, he saw that the crowd was mostly created out of Harriers along with some Supports thrown into the mix if he zeroed in on their Reaper uniforms alone.

All he could do was stare widely at them, blinking incredulously as he thought, **'W-Wow… were we **_**that**_** loud?'**

The rather lanky Reaper nodded at the Harrier for some reason, although it soon became clear why he had as the lanky person started to pick their way over. Even the awkward clapper edged over reluctantly... and the Harrier found himself suddenly having more Reapers moving towards him. As they all soon stood in front of the Harrier, it was only then that he instantly felt self-conscious even though his hood wasn't down. **'Why are they clustering me!?'** He frowned as he gaped at each of them in confusion.** 'There's _so_ many of them, what's-'**

"Say, what's this about takin' out criminals?" asked the one who stepped forward first. They placed a hand on their side, tipping their head to the opposite side. "Problem happenin' in the RG we should know about?"

"N-Not_ currently_…" the Harrier breathed out slowly, soon catching himself. He couldn't allow himself to act self-effacing around these guys- this was the moment to cement their impression of him! **'...Time to shine...' **He pressed a hand to his chest to brace himself, inhaling slowly before mentally nodding. **'Let's put on a show.' **He then added on quickly as he took his hand off, whisking it slowly to gesture to the lanky Reaper with a business-esque mien, "But how would _you_ feel, if it was legal to bring them on over here to personally take care of them?"

The lanky Reaper smacked his lips, tapping his chin. "I'd think that be nice… and I know some of my mates might agree with that line of thinkin' too." He tilted his head back. "Tell you what- how about I go bring 'em on over now?"

"Thaatt bee grreaatt!" piped Andy as she darted up to the Harrier Reaper's side. She snatched the notebook the Harrier had been safeguarding, abruptly yanking out a black ballpoint pen from one of his trouser pockets the next moment. She twiddled the pen excitedly as she offered the notebook to the other male, chirping happily, "Jaust neeed aah signaatturre flom yaa!"

"For what, missy?" the lanky Reaper asked, and the Harrier immediately identified he had an accent. Sounded Brittish…? Or was he mistaking that with Austrailian? Hmm… he should really get himself up to date with that knowledge.

"Eit's jaust aah peettittion ta maake Rrecllutting legaarl!" she cheerfully explained, proudly tapping the end of the pen to a random page she opened up to. "Need aahll the suppaorrtt _wee_ caan geitt!"

The lanky Reaper made a sound of recognition, suddenly speaking with a more profuse accent in English. "Is Japnese not your first language then?"

It was a good thing the Harrier actually practiced his English outside of class to understand Andy when she retreated into English immediately. "Yes!" She nudged the Harrier Reaper with a giggle and shouted out with glee, "My friend here is teaaching me how to speaak Jaapaanese, but he keeps _telling_ me I'll only get better if I praactice it aahnytime- aahnywhere- so I caan aactually get it down paat becaause it's like my words aare aah flaattened saandywich thaat waas thrown out the window becaause aah mother's little son haates thaat she left the crust on!" She leaned closer, shifting her head back and forth in a secretive manner before cupping her hand to whisper to the lanky Reaper, "Aahlso... becaause little Jimmy haates tomaattos!"

...He definitely had to brush up on his English a little more. Andy seemed to light up as she fluently exercised sentences like it was nothing… going so fast he could hardly keep up with her words while mentally checking them to understand what was being exchanged to the lanky Reaper. The last time he heard her speak English was when he went to find her and ask if she was interested in speaking Japanese, which had been five weeks ago.

"Well, what do you know-" The lanky Reaper immediately erupted into amused laughter, pointing at his face briskly when he was finishing his chuckles up. "How did you know my name, missy?"

"Waait- thaat's yaawrr naame!?" she cried out with surprise, happily grinning as she blew a raspberry. "Get reaal!"

The lanky Reaper inhaled slowly, thudding his chest as he spoke clearly, "Jim Carlistein. I just go by Jimmy because my mates think it's the easiest name to use in our spiffy loaded guy jokes, but I'm none too offended by them if I do say so myself."

"Haah, I hope yaa none too offended…" she said back with a simple shrug.

"Nah, it's cool, missy," Jimmy said with a shake of his head, crossing his arms soon after. "Although, I think you're puttin' too many A's into your pronunciation… Were you in the south or north?"

"South," she replied quickly. "I think I'm struggling the most with Aa's, so I put more oomph into aahnything just so thaat mah friend here doesn't get lost like other Reaapers haave when I taalk eaars off aahll daay like I'm creaating aah braand new sport!"

"And the L's and R's?" asked the male Reaper curiously. "I get that it's hard to string 'em right, but you're addin' extras in there as well."

"Aain't too baad becaause if I don't, mah friend won't understaand meh," she returned as she slung an arm around the Harrier, who didn't realize he would be roped into this conversation from how intently he was focusing on their fluent words. "Isn't thaat right?"

"Uh…" He mulled over his memory of using English before he straightened and bowed to Jimmy in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Jim Calristein " Immediately, he widened his eyes when the taller Reaper laughed, jerking to stand up again as Jimmy slapped his knee giddily.

"It's a good thing I remembered you were goin' to do that, or I would have gotten a broken hand," said Jimmy mildly, his words slowly going back into Japanese. "Anyways…" He rubbed his hands, quirking a look to Andy. "You said I had to sign a pediatrician? Or did you mean somethin' else?"

"A petition," the Harrier verified, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Would you do the honours again, Andy?"

Immediately, Andy raised the notebook up eagerly, bouncing on her heels. "Helre wee gao- yaaw'rre the filrst!"

"Oh... looks like I'm lucky!" Jimmy chuckled as he took the offered ballpoint and began to press down on the page. "I gotta do it right then, after all…"

As the Harrier watched the lanky Reaper sign, he couldn't help but smile warmly. **'Well then, looks like we gathered a following already.' **More Reapers trickled in while others further away looked at each other, some of which began to break off to walk away from the crowd with head shakes. The Harrier felt anger churn in his chest, yet skimmed his gaze around only to find the lumbering form of Sadist Saiyama was quite a distance away from the Harrier.

When the man turned to look back, the Harrier Reaper silently watched as the older man's features darkened into a scowl. The man mouthed something before his unimpressed face turned away, continuing to move off.

Who _are_ the wrongdoers?

Inhaling sharply, the Harrier simply turned back to help Andy with the herd who _were_ interested in his Recruitment legalization. He shook his head in deride before tugging at his hood, trying to ensure his leer was concealed.

What a dumb question, old man…

* * *

**Months earlier...**

* * *

"I-I can't do it!"

"You have to do it- everyone else turned away this person!"

"Is _it_ a person anymore!? I feel like we may have mistaken a mutated animal for a person!"

"What do you think will happen if we pass this up? The Conductor has put out a grand- no, no- a _jackpot_ of Points for this job! It would last us maybe a century- m-maybe not that much, but _so_ much time to exist if we finish the job that_ no one _else could!"

"I-I just c-_can't_\- I feel too sick just looking at this… th-_thing_!"

"Don't be a _moron_\- think of the-"

"I-I don't care- I can't _handle_ another moment looking at it!"

"Looking at what?"

"O-Oh- just this person- th-thing?"

"Wait- wait- wait- Did you just call this person a thing!?"

"What are you thinking, man!? You can't say stuff like that in front of-

"But it's true! I-I can't work on this thing-"

"You're ruining everything!"

"I'm not ruining everything- I"m just saying things as they are!"

"Oh fuck you..."

"Why are you acting like I'm the bad guy when you're the one who's been forcing me to do this!"

"Because we both know we need the Points-"

"You mean _you_ need the Points!"

"_Stop_! ...Let me ask you two something... and you two _better_ be honest! Have you made no progress for the last two days, because you're too busy butting heads with your own problems, to realize you're doing nothing for this person!?"

"_No_!"

"That's total bullshit!"

"Ugh... _seriously_!? You two are just pathetic, lily-livered buffoons! Just get out of my way- there are _worse_ things to see, and this _frowns_ in comparison!"

"B-But the Conductor-"

"I'm taking over, dammit! A new Round is ready to be stuffed in our noses! Go throw up later- we can't just _leave_ this young person like this! Would you want someone abandoning _your_ hide because you got the shortest damn stick to end up like this one had!? Ugh… cowards, at, heart- _that's_ what you are! Get out of my sight if you're not _going_ to be useful!"

"R-Right-"

"S-See you later-"

"G-Good luck with it!"

"Good luck with the _person_!"

A snort sounded after a minute, "Hmph… as ugly as you are, you and me are going to be spending a lot of _quality_ time together… It's no wonder they see you as a lost cause- your body looks like shit! But _don't_ bellyache to me when I'm through with you, because I don't know what you even look like…"

"H-Hurts..."

"Who's there!?"

"E-Everything... h-hurts..."

"Show yourself!"

"M-Make it stop!"

"...Make what stop?"

"I-I'm going to die! G-Get me out of h-here! P-P-Please!"

"Huh..."

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

"That's new."

* * *

**To be continued… hope you enjoyed the chapter! =3**

* * *

**EeveeGen9988: "Hello, people! Thought I'd drop in some author notes this time around. =3**

**For the last chapter, I forgot to mention which prompt it had been for (whoops), so it happened to be for the Week 7 prompt for Burn(). Nothing had burned last chapter, but the word burn appeared which still technically counts for it from what I know from my previous runs in TSoS Trinity Limit, Quarter Queller and Go (even if it was just to post my last one-shot of Quarter Queller for that run)! =D**

**For this chapter, it was for the prompt Kill(). It goes without saying where that word popped up because our Reaper we followed along with constantly thought about it and about how he died himself. Heh. ;3**

**Later chapters, as I had mentioned in the disclaimer at the beginning, may not have the format I use for my one-shots. Why? Well, personally, I like it when I voice my thoughts at the beginning of chapters for a multi-chaptered story, but I do not want to give anything away so I try to veil my words so you don't have a clue on what to expect in it. On the other hand, for one-shots, I like to discuss them at the end (especially during Twelve Shots of Summer), but it would look awkward at the top so I do it down here (as you are reading in this format currently). Sure, it may be mind-boggling at first, but I like to not overload all of you people when you're just reading a single entry story. As for this story... it's going to get a complicated experience from me because I'll still be updating after this. *pats it on the head apologetically***

**There's also the fact that because of how long this entry is... it's very likely I had some grammar mistakes along the lines... I hoped to catch them with my three edits, so if I missed something... I apologize for not catching it (and my grammar hasn't always been the best but hopefully it wasn't much of an issue for you readers)...**

**The reason why I'm counting this as an one-shot is because of the fact that the prologue and some chapters when I wrote them felt isolated that they felt more like one-shots. And prologues in my mind usually feel isolated enough from the rest of stories that it's like a one-shot that sits next to a bigger overarching story, if you get what I mean. ;D**

**...As for the next chapters... I may not be able to get another chapter out quickly for the time being. I'll be literally camping out in a house I'm currently moving into where we haven't gotten the internet up currently, so I won't be able to use my laptops to surf the web until the internet is gotten up. *sweatdrops***

**Fun Fact - Regarding the names of chapters, I'm making a theme of it inspired by the name of the song Mr. Brightside by The Killers. I'm an avid music lover and I especially love that song, it spoke such volumes to me that for this story it just felt right to give a nod to the name of the song. Personally, I also feel like Mr. Brightside partly inspired me to write this story. =D**

**Fun Fact - Regarding how Andy's dialogue is handled and written, our Harrier Reaper's POV maps out her speech based on how he hears her say it. So, before you say I'm doing it wrong, blame the Harrier Reaper for how he hears it. ;3**

**Fun Fact - For our Harrier Reaper, I personally kept getting Thereon's (from Octopath) voice stuck in my head as our main character spoke during my edits. As for Sadist Saiyama, I kept getting Grunkle Stan's voice (from Gravity Falls) stuck in my head as his voice as well when editing (but more gravelly sounding). I don't know if those voices came to mind when you were reading, but they did for me. Funny right? *sweatdrops***

**[Edit - August 26th, 2019] - A mix-up with Doc Manager files led to a terrible mishap where I had to sit through spellchecking the whole chapter (and it definitely didn't like Andy at all *Andy blows a raspberry at that*), fish out the old chapter content I managed to restore from the depths of my Mac Book Pro somehow, because I updated the story with an old version of the chapter that deleted the entire editing I did previously from the last segment of the first scene, after the Mission debriefing scene, Months Ago scene and other content. I feel so humiliated that it happened... *hangs head miserably***

**...**

**As well, it appears you stumbled upon something. =3**

* * *

**NEW LETTER THREAD HAS BEEN [SUCCESSFULLY] CREATED**

**THREAD_TYPE = [PRIVATE]=[HM to KF]**

**DATE_OF_CREATION = 01/00/00/AM/TUES/13/MAY/1975**

**ENTRY_NO = 48159076**

**LOG_NAME = MsCFHL**

**DOCUMENT_ALIAS = Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry 48159076**

* * *

**Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry 48159076**

**DOCUMENT CONTENT IS AS FOLLOWS**

Dear, Ms. Fukuhashi,

I met a really, really scary person today! Oh wait, not today, it was yesterday. Now it's the next day, I guess.

It started out simple, you know, give drinks to the patrons, lay low, that sort of thing you always tell me to do… But things went weird!

It was near closing time when two people stumbled in, and they were Reapers, but one of them claimed the Conductor took his wings (poor guy)! I tried to not involve myself too much with interactions like you told me to, but I heard them talking about Iwao! I want to ask him tomorrow what happened because they were not happy campers, Fukuhashi!

The male Reaper noticed me listening then he's asking about vanishing people then we're chatting about bad people then he's crying about how it was about criminals and not bad people then he's telling me not to eavesdrop after I comforted him about how it wasn't his fault I misinterpreted our conservation topic! It just felt like he was going to punch me from the way he spoke- like a snake ready to lunge and dig his fangs of death into me! He's got the scariest eyes ever! I've never seen something so eerie before! I think he must be a Noise inside someone- what do I do!? I don't know what to do! Please tell me what to do, Fukuhashi!

Eagerly waiting for saving,  
\- Hiraku Maeda

* * *

**Response #1KF to **_**Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry #48159076**_

**RESPONSE CONTENT IS AS FOLLOWS**

Dear, Mr. Maeda,

First off, stop sending these panic notes and actually write your reports. This is a waste of your time and my time sending these back and forth when we should be focusing on our duties. As an Angel acting as Rule Master, you have no need to be concerned about Reapers you may think are 'scary'. I am not your mother, so stop acting like a frightened child and use the rational part of your frontal lobe for once.

Second, that Reaper is correct. You can watch the Game, but you must focus on the innate details. Anything suspicious, anything threatening the Game and anything or anyone noteworthy to report about. It is not too hard to do that, Maeda, and you should not act like you are eavesdropping on those around you. It is common courtesy that it appears you have not studied upon enough from what I read of your recent message. It is that simple, and I will not tolerate anything more from you unless they are reports sent in, or actual messages that are of real concern for the stability, state, or fate of Shibuya herself.

Third, you will be in the Lower Grounds for seven more years until it is my rotation. Ten more after that will be yours again. Hanekoma is not due for the unseeable future, so you must steel yourself for the road ahead by doing your duties as they are intended. That does not mean you cannot interact with Lower Ground inhabitants, but you must not lose sight of maintaining yourself. Am I clear?

Fourth, I do not believe a Noise is inside a Reaper. Depending on who it is, I believe their past speaks louder than their delivery of words alone. You may be surprised that there are many layers of ambiguity to ones' persona nowadays, and you should know that from how much you speak openly about our duties to Saiyama. Must I remind you to remain composed no matter what is thrown at you and bite your tongue so you will not flounder as you had? Because you need to take care in not nearly informing Reapers you have never met by mistake of who we are...

Finally, try to catch up with the reports you have disregarded. The Master has not received word on the state of the Lower Grounds since you started your rotation three years ago, and has expressed concern of what may be causing you the delays. Do finish them quickly, to ease His disquiet. We do not want the Master to assume the worst.

Waiting for an answer,  
\- Kotone Fukuhashi

* * *

**Response #1HM to **_**Response #1KF to Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry #48159076**_

**RESPONSE CONTENT IS AS FOLLOWS**

Dear, Ms. Fukuhashi,

I swear, I'm not making this up! His eyes are eerie! That scary Reaper's eyes are muddy and mossy! I read notes where Noise are inside people and you would know that if their eyes are weird and scary!

Still eagerly waiting for saving,  
\- Hiraku Maeda


	3. Mr Support

**Mr Reaper**

**I do not own The World Ends With You, Square Enix does!**

**Mr Reaper Part 2 was written for Shibuya Operation - Story Storm (SOSS); previous chapters (Parts 0 and 1) were posted during Twelve Shots of Summer (TSoS).**

**If you need a refresher on the events that have occurred so far, feel free to refresh yourself unless you don't want to go back to the two-to-three hour read of Part 1 (as mentioned in one of the reviews). This is simply a suggestion that you may take if you are feeling fuzzy about the details and wish to progress with context to enjoy this next instalment with everything up to date in mind.**

**...**

**2 - Mr. Support**

* * *

**Months Earlier...**

* * *

"Why can't I be happy for her?"

A sigh sounded.

"She's so happy- a-and yet I… I-I don't understand."

"..."

"I've never seen her like this since- but I'm lost."

"..."

"Wh-What if this is a mistake? Wh-What if this is a joke and I'm just starting to comprehend what it is? Oh no… what am I thinking!?"

"..."

"Oh gods… why haven't I said anything!? I-I can't let this… who am I right now!? I'm lying to myself- I need to stop this-"

"..."

"If I don't do anything, say anything- nothhgggf!"

Another sigh sounded, "Twenty-seven percent… going on twenty."

"I cannot let him down… If I do, all that does is neblarb. Nen hurb gar car Cheiz danm heed bur-bur-bur-burnieeeee!"

"That's not right- what the fuck is… _dammit_. That's not… _fuck_! Okay, okay… Twenty, twenty percent going on seven… Twenty percent going on three…"

"..."

"You're doing great so far! You look much better than earlier, _trust me_. All you looked like was shit, and I don't want to go into the specifics since you won't even know the difference, gahaha…"

"..."

"Anyway, I just need you to sit still, and we can get this over with. You're squirming too much and I'd hate to see you undo your stitches. Well, _methodical_ stitches, that is."

"..."

"When you're out and about, you're going to be stronger than you were before. Things might be baffling at first, but you'll get the swing of it eventually. _Hey_, you might even get a chance to go back! How does _that_ sound?"

"..."

"...Well, I need to get this done first then you will play for that chance. I'll give you a short rundown: You need to find someone you trust first. I'm off-limits, so you better not be shy because there are those who will literally try to end your existence."

"..."

"Second, stick with them and do the stuff we tell you to do each day. Not your typical day... a day in the game I'm taking you to. Any renegade bullshit and you're point blank terminated within reason of said bullshit pulled."

"..."

"Third, be careful of who you trust. People like me will try to 'eat' you, so think of us as vultures who wait for the carcasses to fall under us. You're going to be _very_ appetizing, and we need our grub to 'live on', so to speak. I'm not worried about you, though. I've seen enough of what happened before you got me."

"..."

"Fourth, you're going to get some things to help you fend for yourself. Isn't that _great_? I feel something tremendous already leaking out from your Soul... It's not so familiar, so you're going to have quite the artillery on you! Aren't _you_ a lucky dog, hahaha!"

"..."

"Okay, back to business… I'm going to have to repeat it when you're almost ready, but thought I'd share something to get you motivated to not shift around too much. Can't get too ahead of ourselves now, right? You're not ready to show off yet, so it'll just be you and me for a bit longer. Cutting it close, but I've got things done at a tighter deadline. Although, hate to say I might have to rush unless I get an extension from the guy who paged me. He trusts me to get the job done, and I'll get this done… You'll see."

"..."

"Now then, how…"

"..."

"Three percent… going on fifty? Twenty percent? Okay, okay… y-you're _back_ at _twenty-five_!? I hardly _did_ anything, but- Wh-_What_!? NO- no, no, no-"

"..."

"..._Shit_. Y-You got to be _kidding_ me!"

"..."

"Okay- _hold_ that thought! I'll be back soon! Trust me on this! J-Just trust me! Trust me…"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Trush… m-e-m-me-me-mee…"

* * *

**\- 1975 -  
****Present time**

* * *

"Sixty supporters..." the Harrier crisply said, breathing out slowly before he mumbled, "I don't expect we'll garner much of a head turn with these numbers."

Andy snorted and rolled her amber-brown eyes. "AI saay thaatt's plenttee."

"Ugh, _no_." The Harrier shook his head at that. "It isn't enough."

"Then whaatt eis yaawrr 'enaouff'?" she asked tartly in return, cocking her head with a pinched frown. "Becaause ta meh... wee gaott peaopull. Aahnd eif wee gaott peaopull, why aain'tt yaa grlad wee dao?"

Suppressing a growl and trading it for a simple, sharp intake of breath, the Harrier replied coolly, "Numbers matter." He raised a finger and twiddled with it as he straightened his back. "I can't exactly say I can crunch the population of Reapers on the fly, Andy..." He stilled his hand, lowering it as he put in, "However, what I do know is that we've hardly scratched the iceberg, leaving us with a slab of slush to fiddle around with."

When Andy gave him an odd look, he reluctantly let out a sigh, "From what I said earlier... we can't input these numbers to get our solution."

The female Reaper crossed her arms and grimaced. "Why caan'tt yaa rlett this sheitt gao?"

"Because, my friend," he started dryly with a huff, tilting his head slightly as he mumbled, "That posh bastard will only think we're the morons." He paused briefly and closed his eyes. "Not only that... dimwits who are trying to fool around with him. That is, unless we can get more Reapers to back up ourselves when we present our results." When he opened his eyes, the Harrier crossed his arms and sighed again, "We may say we have support, but if we don't have the living, walking damn proof behind us..." The Harrier pursed his lips. "He won't believe a single word we spill out to him."

Andy's eyebrows knitted promptly, loosely opening her mouth and leaving it hanging before she breathed out, "Eif yaa aask meh... yaaw'ree maaking eitt maorre caomplricaatted thaan gaoing aoutt ta gett the maorrning newspaaperr thaatt's sitting aon the frlaontt paorrch."

Internally letting out a groan, the Harrier was about to rephrase his point again when he wrinkled his nose; his ability of going through with it ceasing at the whiff of smoke. Almost at once, his stomach started to churn and his vision started to become hazy as he realized a trail of smoke was being carried over to them.

Inching closer to his friend, he quickly spoke, "C-Could we go somewhere else right now?"

"Jaust smaoke," Andy said with a tilt of her head. "Naott leike we'rre gaong ta-"

"The smell disagrees with me- _alright_!?" he snapped in annoyance, turning to stalk off from his friend's side as he tried to wave the nauseating cloud away from him. He didn't want to freak out about this right now- _not_ in front of his friend!

Andy simply stayed where she was, momentarily watching him before hustling after him. Once she was beside him again, she then narrowed her eyes as she side-glanced him. "Whaatt's wlaong with the smerl?"

"Reminds me too much of..." He grimaced, clenching his eyes closed as he raggedly took a breath in. The Harrier soon shook his head, feeling as if he was nursing a mouthful of tar in his mouth from knowing he had just inhaled the unaware Realground smoker's breath. **'Not now... _not now_-'**

He tried to adjust his direction when the smell refused to leave him alone, veering off to a building and slowed down when he reached it. As soon as his friend had arrived, he gritted his teeth and clenched his hands. He didn't really want to talk about it... but maybe he could do with a distraction. Something that wasn't it, but would make sense regardless. White lies worked if they weren't the thing you were talking about but were true, right? Perhaps? Aw, fuck it. Why not give this a shot...

"...Reminds me of when he smoked," he replied quietly, trying to focus and hold on to the memory he yanked into his mind. Luckily for him, the oil and burnt-rubber stench slowly ebbed from his nostrils and his racing thoughts.

The dark dirty blonde's eyebrows knitted. "Whao?"

"Someone I used to know, okay?" he chose to say curtly, pursing as he added briskly, "But if I am to be frank, I'll just say it was the scumbag the woman who gave me life fancied."

Andy's expression didn't change, yet the Harrier couldn't help but sigh and shake his head, "He smoked... but I put a stop to it." He frowned initially as he tried to pull in more of the facts of the subject, soon allowing himself to curl his lips up bitterly. "I only did it because she couldn't stop him from doing it inside the house." The Harrier then raised a finger. "Then one Day... I had enough-" He lashed his hand across his front and clenched his hand near his shoulder. "- and swiped them when he wasn't looking!"

His friend whistled at that. "Waow... Yaa werre thaatt sneaakee?"

Lowering and relaxing his hand, he grimaced. "Not quite." He looked off to the side and frowned, feeling bashful for some reason as he mumbled, "I went out with the excuse I was meeting up with friends... which would have worked if I had friends. But that's not the point-"

The Harrier paused to inhale, a little pleased when he got clean air instead of a musky second-hand consumption of carbon dioxide before he went on, "I found a spot where I thought I was safe and burned them on the ground."

Andy blinked. "Thaose aarre expensive yaa know."

"Expensive, but not wholesome to breathe in," he mused pointedly, turning his head back as he sighed, "I didn't leave until they were gone, then wandered around the districts before deeming it safe to return home."

"Thaatt eisn'tt smaoking then," she curtly noted, earning a dry laugh from him. "Thaatt's smaoking _them_ aup."

"Oh no, I got used to the smell after doing the mundane ritual for so long," he explained with a shrug, dipping his head after a few seconds. "Too used to it... as you may guess."

"Aahnd yaa dedn'tt gett caaughtt?" Andy asked incrediously, her eyes starting to go round with awe. "Haow caan yaa naott saay yaaw'rre naott sneaakee?"

"Because that scumbag started accusing me," he breathed flatly, lowering his head. "Rightfully so…" As he blinked, looking back at his friend again, he frowned deeply. "I always played the innocent card, but that woman wouldn't stop glaring at me when the scumbag wasn't looking. She would pretend to believe me over that scumbag because-" He wiggled fingers in the air and tried to alter his tone to be higher pitched. "'My son would never steal'! 'My son never do such wrong after being raised right'!"

After shaking his head, he lowered one arm and kept his right finger in the air. "It was only a farce because she was putting on a stupid front to appear loving and kind, not hideously awful and unappealing to him, mind you."

The female Reaper immediately glowered. "Thaatt bittch." She shook her head, frowning hard as she growled, "Yaa ded aah faavaourr folr herr, aahnd she trleatted yaa leike sheitt!"

Even though he felt that might have been a good term to use to sum up that woman with... he couldn't help but internally wince at that. Almost by instinct, he opened his mouth, feeling words start to roll off his tongue to defend her when he snapped his jaw shut. Shaking his head, he grimaced and wrinkled his nose.

As much as he would want to agree with Andy... he just wanted to resist the urge to make excuses for that woman who raised him.

Rubbing his temple, he all but shook his head another time. "New topic-" he started in a mumble, aware of how Andy's face transformed into confusion- maybe even concern, if he read her right- all too quickly the moment he spoke. He tugged at his hood absently, trying to cast away the bitter thoughts threatening to unhinge him as he mused quietly, "We need a plan of attack, per say, on what we're going to do next."

"Aahttaack?" Andy echoed bemusedly, earning a nod from him before she spoke again, "AI thaoughtt wee werle gaoing ta dao the pettittion?"

"The petition," he mumbled before giving a nod. "What we're going to do for the petition..."

Andy's face brightened and she clapped her hands. "Aoh yeaah!" She gave a giddy grin to him as she drew closer, tilting her head as she chirped, "Naow whaatt wirl eit be, mah sawheet bumpkein?"

"We got names, but we'll need more than this," he explained simply, nodding to himself as he went on mindfully, "Like I said, I am certain sixty isn't a reassuring number to be fine with."

Andy's face fell, her eyebrows furrowing as she pursed her lips. "But wee _taarlked_ aahbaoutt this arleaady..." she grumbled in a whine.

"Yeah, but we weren't _done_ talking about it, Andy..." he intoned back in annoyance and scowled. His friend's eyes emitted nothing but darkened amber-brown pools as she pivoted slightly on her heels, her expression growing taut and disgruntled as he drank in the fact that she still didn't get it. He made himself shift his stance to try to stand up to her stiff body language, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at her as he growled, "This is a problem we need to fix before we do anything crazy."

"Yaa think ta much," she huffed.

The Harrier inhaled before he stubbornly pressed, "This isn't up to discussion, Andy. We honestly have to stick to this path of misery or we'll never reach the splendiferous glory on the other side."

Andy's frustrated face drew closer to him. "Whaatt's this aahbaoutt graoly?" she asked sharply and wrinkled her nose. "Yaa _gaott_ aah dleaam."

As he was about to answer that, he stopped when he considered her latter response. Andy stood up taller as he disappointedly realized his friend may be right, frowning to himself as he pondered about why he jumped on the misworded notion he was going for something else. It wasn't about the glory... it was what he hoped to be a nicely done-up statement to dissuade her arguments about settling the fact they had to think about getting more Reapers on board with Recruiting. But it would seem he took the wrong step and fumbled with his dance...

Sighing, he stared at her for a while as he dropped his scowl, wearily rubbing at his eyes. "What I meant to say," he started again quietly, furrowing his eyebrows as he spoke carefully this time, "Was that we still have work to do."

Andy didn't reply to that. Her face relaxed slightly, which the Harrier took as a nice invitation to continue. "We're far from celebrating, Andy." He half-closed his eyes after blinking, mumbling on, "If we want to get this accomplished, we need to literally 'knock the posh bastard's socks off' with a nice performance to acquire our thrown roses."

"Then why aarre yaa sao sett aon gettting maorre peaopull ein?" Andy breathed out with a shake of her head, her lips quirking into an unstable smirk as she chuckled, "Yaaw'rre aonree maaking eit seem leike yaa aonree waantt baodies ta daog pirle him daown auntirl hee gives aup with giving aus sheitt."

...Was that why Andy kept giving him trouble about this? As the Harrier pondered about that, he watched as his friend's rigidness in her figure started to go away and decided that perhaps Andy had a point. Oh boy... he may as well investigate into the matter, he supposed. If he couldn't get Andy on board with discussing how to get more Reaper support, then it would make sense to get back her support about his qualms.

Taking the moment to recollect himself, as to not ruin the fineness of the topic with his narrow-mindedness, he inhaled before he spoke, "Okay, so if it's not about the numbers..." He bit his lower lip slightly before he went on with his question, "Then why isn't it about the numbers?"

"Aaw, eitt's aahbaoutt geeting the messaage aahcrlaoss thaatt peaopull caarre aahbaoutt this," Andy chipped in with a snicker, causing him to blink at her when it struck him how familiar that answer was. He wondered why that would be such a case as he watched his friend with bewilderment, straightaway trying to pinpoint where that idea may have come from when Andy started to wave the notebook at him. "Thaatt's whaatt aI gaott when yaa exprlaained eitt ta meh the firrstt time."

"First time?" he echoed back and felt himself frown.

Andy cocked her head at him, momentarily appearing as if she was confused as she spoke, "Yaa knaow..." She grimaced with her eyes half-closing from it. "Ein the barr...?"

The Harrier's frown deepened as he thought back to the Day before, the mess of everything somewhat interfering with his ability to properly recall where her logic could have stemmed from. He placed his hand over his chin, closing his eyes as he tried reaching further into the recesses of his memories as he found he had a sudden murkiness of his recollection. The Harrier usually didn't have trouble with bringing facts back into the open... but what could Andy be going on about with the izakaya...?

...What was wrong with him? The black hoodie wearer grimaced as he kept drawing up dry trails, flickering his gaze when he opened it to his friend who was waiting on him most likely. "I..." he breathed out with little comfort from knowing that he wouldn't have much to contribute to Andy's subject matter. "I don't particularly have any idea what that's about."

For some reason, Andy gave out a short laugh. As the Harrier focused on his friend, he felt immediately as if he was a person who forgot to put socks and shoes on before they left their home for the Day. She soon leaned over her stomach and placed her hands on it while laughing more, which led him to believe Andy wouldn't offer an explanation as to why she was reacting oddly.

"Okay," he said in annoyance and scowled as he grumbled, "What's so amusing about this?"

The dirty blonde snickered, shaking her head lightly as she replied almost smugly, "Yaa daon'tt rlememburr whaatt aI taorld yaa."

His face hardened while he huffed, "Remember _what_?"

"AI gueess the aahlcaohaoll ded gett ya," she mused cheekily as she gave a grin. Her teeth partly showed behind her lips as she put in while chuckling, "Aoh waow, this eis jaust..."

"Andy," he tersely said, pursing his lips as he stared her down. "Just get to the point."

His friend slowly went silent, blinking for a bit before she sighed, "Aaw, fine." As she crossed her arms loosely, she tilted her head before she murmured, "AI thaoughtt aI taorld yaa eit waourld shaow yaa aahnd meh aahin'tt the aonlee aones waantting Rlecluitting..."

The Harrier started at that. "R-Really?" He frowned as he incredulously kept his gaze trained on her face. "But that's the reason why we need more Reaper support," he went on in disbelief, watching his friend shrug. "If we get more names down, that will surely show that."

She smiled tenderly at him. "Bautt waourld they aundaarrsttaand eit?"

The Harrier raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Andy blew a raspberry, shaking her head almost knowingly before she placed a hand on her nearby hip and began poking at her temple with her other. "Whaatt eif they daon'tt gett eit?" Her amber-brown eyes glinted as she breathed out warily, "Why eitt's eimpaorrttaantt... Why eitt maattterrs..." She then pointed at him and frowned sadly. "Whaatt eit meaans ta yaa."

Immediately, the Harrier's eyes widened and his throat went dry. "...Are you saying we could be choosing the wrong volunteers from the crowd to agree with us if we only care about the support?"

The female Reaper nodded with a grimace. "Yeaah..."

"I see..." he mused in disappointment, dipping his chin as he put his hand over it and sighed, "Yes, well... I suppose that's a fair point." He drew his gaze back to his friend as he mumbled, "However, that only makes me feel nervous about our current supporters..."

"Naaw," Andy said with a shrug, making him narrow his eyes at her as she waved her hand up and down while she shook her head. "Eif yaa think wee shaourldn'tt crlaose aup shaopp, then aI'rl bee fine with gaoing folr more peaopull." She then crossed her arms and scowled. "Bautt yaa caourld leaave meh ein chaarrge of weeeding aoutt the rliaarrs."

"I doubt they would be lying," he said with a huff, shaking his head. "Understanding something and pretending to like something are two different things, Andy."

Andy's eyes became slits. "Saame thing." Her frown deepened as she went on to grumble, "Eit waourldn'tt bee rlightt ta sign aup eif ya daon'tt haave yaa heaarrtt aahnd saourl ein eit..."

"Either way, we can only assume they want to help out until evidence suggests otherwise." He hoped that wouldn't be the case. "I don't think it would be a good idea to heckle them about why they signed our petition," he went on in an uneasy note, watching as his friend's expression failed to change at any point even after he told her that. "It would only cause unwanted disturbances and annoy them. And if we annoy them..." He knitted his eyebrows and frowned. "We can potentially lose our support."

His friend grimaced at that, her amber-brown gaze darkening with worry. "Waourldn'tt hurltt ta ask."

The Harrier couldn't help but feel inclined to agree with her. "...Minimal encounters?"

"Surre," she said with a shrug, soon waving a hand back and forth towards herself and him. "AI'll jaustt be daoing the dirrtee waorlk aahnd yaa caourld be rlaounding aup maorre folr meh ta waorlk with."

"So I go high, you go low?" he inquired with slight amusement, faintly feeling less on edge as Andy nodded. "Then it'll just be how our hunts go." With their roles somewhat reshuffled, of course.

As Andy's face broke into a grin and gave a session of certainly more excited nods, he dipped his head. "Okay, good," he breathed in relief, smiling small as he blinked back at his friend. "I suppose that will do." The Harrier then frowned, looking away as he mumbled on, "Although... I feel as if we may have a snag to keep in mind."

Andy's face screwed up. "Snaag?" She bent down to the ground, causing him to wince when he realized the notebook had been dropped at some point again. Did Andy purposefully drop it earlier or did she put it down for some reason? They couldn't afford to keep losing track of it and walk away when a non-suspecting Reaper could pick it up and find reason to use it to report him and Andy of 'ill-advised pursuits'.

The Harrier felt a slight headache come on when he thought about this, watching as Andy stood up while she made a move of slipping the black notebook into her mustard hoodie's front pocket. The bulky rectangle somewhat hindered her movements- or merely made her feel uncomfortable to move until she readjusted it to not poke into her, he noted, as she took a few steps to stand in front of him again.

She soon placed a hand on her hip with a raised eyebrow. "Eis thaatt why yaa sao augly with eit?"

**'Oh, you wouldn't dream of all the reasons that make me unhappy about it...'** He sighed dismally, "To be frank... today's just been stressful." He closed his eyes. "Surely my apparent inspirational speech will spread through the streets, and catch the ears of the Conductor as soon as we enter the River again. If we want actual results, we should try again tomorrow." The Harrier paused to shake his head. "But I doubt we'd see daybreak before our petition is sabotaged by that _posh bastard_."

"Then why daon'tt wee staay aoutt, caattch the laatte nightt crlaowd aahnd trry befaorre he daoes?" Andy suggested with a frown.

"We may be dead, but we're not batteries that run forever," he simply said and crossed his arms, feeling his eyebrows knit. "And if I want my wings back…"

Andy's large, somewhat webbed wings fanned out abruptly, fluttering almost as if they had somehow gained their own sentience until his friend exclaimed giddily, "Nao, daon't botherr-" He shot a disgruntled look to her, puzzled by her fantasy of not wanting him to fly again when she clasped her hands. She tipped them in his direction and wolfishly grinned. "Yaa knaow whaatt wiinglress Rleaperrs aarre...?"

She let out a few snickers, which caused him to sigh flatly, "Andy, I'm not in the mood for jokes."

"Nao- nao- _shuush_!" She scowled at him, instantly putting her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. "Powafurl."

The Harrier sighed again, "I'm not powerful, I'm more in the moderate range." He furrowed his eyebrows, soon rolling his eyes as he gestured slightly. "And I don't see how that has any merit."

"Yaa knaow whaatt eit waas leike, waattching yaa aarrgaue with the Saahiyaamaarraamaa?" she asked eagerly in a gradually rising tone, grinning through her smirk as she crossed her arms. Andy soon nodded in an omniscient manner. "They thaoughtt yaa werle aah strlaong Rleaperr… sao, why naott caash ein aon eit?"

He immediately froze. "Lie to them?"

"_Naaw_, thaatt aain't eit." The dirty blonde shook her head with narrowed eyes, waving her hand as she explained, "Naott yaawrr faaurltt yaa lraost them... _baaut_ thaatt aain'tt the paointt." She tapped her temples, grinning toothily as she chirped, "Yaa gaottaa theink becaause yaaw'rre the brraains bettweeen the twao aof aus! Waourldn'tt eit bee saweet eif they thoughtt yaa werle aah _biig_, _baad_ Rleaperr ta sttaand beehind…?" She started to laugh, slapping a knee as she continued chortling about it.

"_Andy_!" he firmly barked out, stiffly facing her as he glowered coldly. "This _isn't_ a joke!" Her eyes blew wide, backing away as he clenched his hands and gritted his teeth. "If we project that sort of falsehood… I don't want us to get caught up with it or we may lose sight of what we want in the end!" He narrowed his eyes to slits, coolly turning as he sighed before grousing, "I want Reapers who feel the same as us to sign up, not grab any body we see off the streets as _con artists_!"

The Harrier padded away from his companion, stuffing his hands into his pockets upon kicking a pebble away. "We _need_ to portray the right signs and messages to be taken seriously…"

"AI thaoughtt yaa ded aah _faanttaastic_ jaob eaarlilrer," commented Andy as she started to step over to him slowly. "Thaatt's the sttuff aI think yaa gaotttaa dao!"

He scoffed, "_What_? I _lost_ my temper…" He pursed his lips, pressing a hand half on his forehead and half over the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. "As much as that 'helped' us, it wasn't what I was expecting to gain attention from. I already made…" He grimaced upon pausing, contemplating whether or not he should clear his closet out of that skeleton before forgoing it. "Felt awful about this morning, so you may understand I'd rather have had a better handle of the noon situation."

Andy was silent for a while before she breathed in confusion, "AI leckon yaa sttluck gaold."

He groaned out in annoyance, "Even though I got the word out… that _wasn't_ what I was going for."

"Bautt eit gaott _signaatturres_…" she cried out in dismay; he could feel her throwing her head back as she was going on with a huff, "Yaa gaotta gao with eit aorr yaaw'rre naott gaoing ta geitt aahneething!"

The wingless Reaper inhaled deeply before he exhaled harshly. "I'm not convincing you otherwise… am I?"

As he turned back to her, she cheekily grinned brightly. "Yaa haad _paasschun_ baack thelre, mah saweet bumpkein!" She pulled out and held the notebook high above her head gleefully. "Yaa gaottta use maore aof thaatt _enelgy_ ta spleaad the waold!"

He tucked his head slightly in. "If I used that much energy each time, I believe you will be carrying a battery around for now on to zap life back into to me."

She blinked bemusedly before scowling with a huff, "AI _aain'tt_ yaa baackpaack."

"Hey, you chose to carry the pens and notebook instead of me. Not my fault I'm making the connection," he mumbled with an arm shrug, holding it for a few seconds before dropping his appentages when he sighed, "Speaking of that… do you have any ideas where it may be?"

The dirty blonde shrugged then grimaced. "AI thaoughtt eit waas aon yaa baack?"

He released dry laughter, "As _if_ I would carry around pounds of Yen Pins on my back without rest... or in my sleep..." He humoured the thought as he shook his head, smirking as he went on in mild amusement, "Sure, I have muscles… but I know that sort of strain will lead to back issues…"

The Harrier paced on the spot after that, mulling it over as he placed a hand on his chin and started to muse, "It used to be nearly impossible for me to take it off before that posh bastard took my wings."

"Slripped aoff?" she offered simply with a head tilt.

"It _was_ a heavy bag," he countered briskly, giving a hard shake of his head before he sighed bitterly, "I would like to think either of us would hear it land, even for me to miss the pressure on my poor back."

"Then why dedn'tt yaa...?" she slowly said as she squinted. "Yaa werlen'tt _even_ smaashed laastt nightt."

He scoffed in his throat, swiftly spinning back as he bristled. He slammed a palm to his chest as he cried out indignantly, "For your _information_, I was carrying you back to the Barracks- so I'd know if-" He halted, gaping in horror before he gasped slowly. **'Fuck…'**

"Whaatt's the maattterr?" Andy pressed as she gazed at him sharply, amber-brown half-closing promptly as she frowned bemusedly. "Srlipped eit unndarr the wrlaong maatttrless?"

His throat felt dry as he swallowed thickly, wetting his lips before he dropped his hands to clench them at his sides. He had to get it back- who knows if anything was taken from him. It wasn't about the Yen for him, the thought that there was a chance a certain someone had it after the shit him and Andy pulled the night before left him feeling bitter and woozy with horror. Was it a score for revenge? The Harrier wouldn't know for sure unless he got over there and got his bag back! Without it… it would leave him with nothing but the notion he was being stripped bare for another round of torture from the universe.

First his wings, now his bag… was Andy next!? Would she get Erased because the rules of the universe decreed anything to relieve the burdens of his own existence was inconsequential for him to have because the road he chose to walk on was fundamentally rejected so those things had to be ripped away from him every time he tried to go against the 'laws' beseeched upon him!? And if he were to be frank in layman's terms: He couldn't have nice things because everything would _never_ go right for him!?

He tried to calm his breathing as he uncurled his hands, giving a brief miserable look to Andy. It felt like everything was caving on him…

Hands were suddenly on his shoulders. "Hey- daon'tt terl meh yaa faaintting aahgaain!" Andy was in front of him until he shoved against her wrists back in a panic, exhaling a shuddery gasp as he tried to gain back control over himself. Andy shot him a worried look yet the Harrier could only focus on how his face felt slick with sweat, his hands clammy as he patted his cheeks to hopefully hone his senses again to better react to the current situation.

"...S-Stay here," he began slowly whilst raising his hands up towards her. He was growing lightheaded and barely keeping himself from stumbling as he edged backwards. "I-I fear it's _still_ there."

The yellow hoodie Reaper stared at him as he paused momentarily to massage a temple with his right hand, letting it rest there as the Harrier shook his head slowly. Promptly turning, he broke into a swift stride which elicited Andy's alarmed shout, "_Haolrd aon naow_\- wherre dao yaa theink yaa _gaoing_!?"

Abruptly, he spun back to point in her direction as he spoke in a low tone of barely-stifled panic, "Stay… _here_…" He meant for it to be calming and reassuring, so the Harrier knew it wasn't helping his case as Andy started to approach him with much intentful confusion. "I'm going to take a quick detour on our agenda, so wait for me," he explained, hopefully not blurting it out as he gestured with fraught towards her and himself as he quickly went on, "Remember, I'm calling the shots with the information we put out there! So don't worry- I _won't_ be long!"

"Sao yaa _reaaving_ meh!?" she cried out in her tetchy retort, scowling immediately. "Whaatt eis _wrlaong_ with yaa!?"

"I know where it is, so if you would _just_ let me do that-" he pressed as he skittishly pivoted to run again, not looking back this time. "_Everything_ will be peachy!"

"Whaatt aabaoutt maaking surre yaa naott gaoing ta faaintt!?" she cried out in distress, feeling her follow after him still and stir up his already rising anxiety (he just _wanted_ to smother). He didn't need to be stressed right now- why was Andy so insistent on following him when he could just snag it and get back to her without any issues!?

...Oh wait. He skidded to a stop when he realized what the problem was and grimaced. It wouldn't bode well for a 'syncoper' to be alone right now in case they dropped out cold on a Yen again... and that was the last thing he wanted to carry around with him.

Aw well... he may as well fuck things over to fix how he was fucking himself over... even though he _really_ didn't want to this at all...

The Harrier clenched his teeth, turned back one last time, and bit out cheekily and uneasily as he waved both of his hands, "I faked it- _surprise_!"

Within the few seconds he allowed himself to gaze at his friend before turning back to go, Andy's face was white then darkening then turning full-on tomato-red as she squawked out in outrage, "WHAATT DAO YAA MEAAN YAA FAAKED EIT!?"

"So sorry- _bye_!" he shouted back as he pounded hard into the cement and bolted.

He could have sworn she was throwing curse after curse after him, her words bleeding rapidly into English he knew he couldn't decipher right now. That was a guarantee, even if he wasn't panicking about how the initial plan in getting his bag back was now going to end up leaving him with a shiner to show for the event from Andy once he got back. But that didn't matter right now, because the sooner he got back, the sooner he could smooth this over with his friend.

...Y-Yes, that should be good! It _had_ to be good or Andy might smack him with the blunt end of her firearm Psych to beat him into next Week! Ooh… there was _no_ escaping the fact he just pissed her off!

With that, his stomach churned, thoughts whirled and heart sank at the knowledge he just dug a hole for himself. The Harrier wasted no time in trying his best to figure out what would be the fastest route for the round trip as he pushed on, ...to account for Andy's sake this time, of course.

* * *

Bursting through the door, huffing as he stalked and passed by customers, he soon halted at the counter to glare at the culprit.

"Where's my bag...?" he growled out lowly.

The stupid waiter from yesterday jolted, paling drastically when his dark brown eyes flickered to the Harrier before the young auburn haired man seemingly made an 'eep'. "Uh…" He tugged at his dark-mauve collar after a few seconds, sweating as he sheepishly giggled, "N-Nice to s-see you again?"

Straightaway, the Harrier narrowed his eyes more. "If you would like to play that game…" he started as he quieted his voice to a growly whisper, soon speaking coolly with a smile, "Mr. Maeda, was it?" Upon getting a rapid nod, the Harrier continued very sweetly, sickened with himself that he had to stoop to using this tone again, "If you must recall, I had been here with a friend and may have left a knapsack here…" He rolled his eyes inwardly. "So I would like to know if it still _is_ here…"

Mr. Maeda slowly, like a jittery creature, turned away to lean under the counter.

The Harrier acted on the need to anxiously drum his fingers on the counter- thankfully clean, unlike yesterday- and surreptitiously glanced at the current patrons in the izakaya. He was hoping none of them had their interests piqued by his entrance… nevermind, the Harrier was certain he had an audience right off the bat. He tried to inhale deeply and release it slowly, hoping this time to calm himself to some degree as he waited. It wouldn't do for the actor to lose himself mid-performance, even if this wasn't a show to give them.

Sometimes, the Reaper forgot how he should mind his manners more when in the presence of RG denizens… but a lot of times, it was easy to let himself slip and give in to the freeform. Which freedom? Well, the freedom to not fit himself into jaded conventions that woman had forced him to. Perhaps, he supposed, it was one of the reasons why he let himself splice together his anger and pitch for Recruiting Players because of Sadist Saiyama. That old man must have been purposefully egging him on- no, it _had_ to be why that old man was being so difficult to have deflected the proposition the Harrier gave an hour or two ago.

He felt tears threaten to form. The Harrier instantly began resisting them as he clasped ahold of himself, by humming as quietly as he could…

* * *

"Dun dun-dun dunn!" the eight-year-old hummed out as he was placing his school books away, not missing a beat as he fashioned his ruddy-red knapsack clasp before beaming small. "Dun duh-dun-dun duh!"

"My son, your mother is sleeping," said the boy's father from the other side of the room, the words freezing the boy in place as he flushed. "Do keep it down for her sake."

"Yes, father," said the boy as he quieted himself to a whisper, bowing his head. He was unsure if his father heard him or if it was enough for his mother to remain asleep, but he scolded himself for being so loud to have received his father's notice.

As his father padded over as the boy busied himself with treading softly to the shoji, struggling to open it and panicking when it clicked and creaked out, his father soon fell in behind him and slid it open slowly and perfectly... Despite frowning at that, the boy sent a quick nod to his father before venturing to the front sliding door, lowering himself to place his bag down.

He was making sure it was out of the way of where it could be tripped over when the boy heard his father close the shoji, jerking before trying to make sure his knapsack stayed upright. "Hmm… may I ask how you came up with such a song?" asked his father as he was slowly maneuvering himself onto his cushion, sitting tall and facing his son as the boy stood up.

Once the boy came over to the cubudai, he smiled and replied quietly while taking a seat beside the man, "We went to a performance the other day."

"Why so soft when your mother is in the other room?" asked his father this time, clasping his hands on the cubudai.

The boy's face went blank. "What if she can hear us?" he breathed, not daring to raise his voice despite how surprised he was from that question. "Mother hears everything."

"Everything, you say?" hummed his father in amusement, earning a placative nod from the boy. The boy's father laughed before he murmured, placing a hand atop the boy's head and rubbed it, "If she could, we would have to be silent."

The boy gaped small, nodding as he glanced at the shoji door she was sleeping behind incredulously. "Oh…"

"Tell me about this performance, my son," the boy's father said, causing the boy to gaze back to politely give his father his attention. "It has certainly caught your fancy if you're humming it by heart."

His father's gre-

* * *

The Harrier jolted when a thud sounded and ochre blurred in his vision. "I-Is this it?

Blinking quickly, the Reaper took a moment to pacify the urge to bolt out with the bag in case it wasn't his before he studied it. Remaining startled from being ripped out of the memory would only make him act recklessly if he didn't recompose himself, after all.

"Hmm…" He turned it around on the counter, noting nothing was out of the ordinary. The fabric was just as he remembered it and there appeared to be no tampering as of the moment. Deciding to be a smidge more thorough, he warily slid open a pocket and peered in.

Glinting Pins shone dimly back.

But how many?

He looked at the owner of the izakaya. "When did you notice it was here?"

The man jumped, stiffening as he began rubbing his hands sheepishly. "Last night."

Turning his expression neutral, save for the anger he felt inside, the Harrier placed a hand on the top of his knapsack. "When was that...?" he hissed out slowly, starting to glower as he went on coolly, "_When_ did you notice it was here, Mr. Maeda?"

The man's face blanched. "Uh…" He seemed to start sweating profusely; not that the Reaper cared, it only served to add fuel to one of the conclusions he formulated on his way here. Scratching his chin, the dark auburn haired waiter grimaced before he squeaked out, "Three or four am? After you left?" The man instantly clasped his hands as he started to blubber, "I-I swear- no one else came after you two left! Absolutely n-_no_ _one_ saw it but me!"

"Okay then," said the Reaper with a small exhale, narrowing his eyes to slits. "I'll assume you had it with you in hopes I would return to see if you had it, which-" He gestured to himself stiffly. "I had." He then placed a hand back on his bag, pointedly locking eyes with the man. "But did you happen to leave it here, or take it home?"

"Wh-Why would you think th-that?" asked the man nervously; his dark brown eyes wide and flashing with fear. ...Wow, Andy _was_ right. this man couldn't take a chill pill… In fact, give this waiter a chill pill and this man may very well choke on it.

The Harrier wasn't trying to spook the man, but the Harrier wasn't opposed to cranking this up a notch. It may very well work in his favour and payback was beauty in the eyes of the beholder- hence, that being, one of the victims of last night's eavesdropping. It _was_ in his interest to make it clear who should be cooperative to who…

"Oh, just wanted to know because I would _hate_ to have any of my belongings stolen…" he said, slurring his words near the end and paused for a moment or two. When he glanced down at his bag, he tartly put in, "You know, if you sifted through my bag and took anything-" He leaned slightly forward and added simply, "I would only question if what you told me last night proved to be genuine." He patted his knapsack twice, his gaze sharpening. "And wonder how I trusted a lowly thief."

The man's eyes bulged, wildly shaking his head seconds later. "I-I _swear_\- e-everything is in there!" He nodded twice, giving the equivalent of puppy dog eyes to the Reaper, who quirked an unamused eyebrow immediately.

"...How would you know that then?" His voice was shallow and condescending as he frowned deeply. "If you hadn't looked in it."

"Oh, well… it-" The words died on the man's breath when it hitched; the waiter starting back slightly as he shook his head. "_Oh_\- I didn't even touch its clasps!"

The Reaper flatly stared back, pointing at the 'clasps'. "It has zippers."

"Z-Zippers!" half-shouted the man as he smiled in a grimace. "I m-meant _zippers_!"

"What's in my bag?" asked the Reaper as he curled his fingers, bunching up the rough fabric in his grasp. "If everything _is_ inside it?"

"U-Um…" The waiter squeaked for a while, panicking in front of the Reaper before he grinned nervously. "Paper?"

**'**_**Ah**_**.'** The Reaper's face hardened. **'The generic response I hadn't wanted to hear…'**

In the Underground, Reapers collected currency from Noise if they were desperate for spending, or from the Players they Erased. The Harrier had been doing the latter, which led to him buying this knapsack a Day after growing tired of running out of pocket space to store his Yen Pins in during his first Reaper Week. ...Not that he did yet, he used the Yen Pins he had collected during his time as a Player to buy said bag, but that's not the point he was drawing here- Whenever they went into shops, the Reaper Sigils would alter the Realground denizens' perception of the Pins they reaped to see them as normal Yen. Players, returning from the Underground, would take about a Week or so to see them as normal Yen again… as the Harrier Reaper recalled.

In Mr. Maeda's case, he saw the Reaper's contents as paper… which meant he did see the contents of the Harrier's bag. Therefore, the Harrier knew he was correct to check just to be sure of this man's claims... as much as he hated taking valuable time out of his Day just to keep hearing the man sprout lie after lie after lie.

"What type of paper?" the Reaper ventured curtly, slowly cupping the bottom sections of his knapsack and shook it a few times. As he did so, he watched the waiter cringe. "Just a bit curious, if you must know." After a pause he placed it back down, content that had been enough to rest his case.

"A-Ahg…" Mr. Maeda went rigid as a plank. "W-Were they important papers!?"

Ah-ah, _not_ so fast! Important papers? Well, well, well- there goes the alarms. His gaze sharpened, feeling himself smirk even as his annoyance flared up. If Mr. Maeda was honest, he wouldn't have asked such an obvious question. As innocent as the question made itself out to be, it rang true with the fact that Mr. Maeda had only fallen into his own pitfall- meant for the Harrier to trip into- instead.

A Realground person who didn't know better would have just not told him there was paper… following up to that- since this man failed in that regard- why would they care if the papers _were_ important? Little loose strings such as this were easy to blow over, but people like the Harrier knew better. The question wasn't a matter of asking if or confirming they were important. To put it simply, it didn't even establish what the importance was for. No, no… it wasn't that. Where was the context? In order to understand this, you _needed_ context.

To walk through this, it wasn't about why they were important: It was about the 'who' in all this. Who cared about the papers more between him and this waiter. It was a veiled statement meant to catch one off-guard. Well played, Mr. Maeda, but maybe you're not as dumb as you made yourself out to be. Even the Harrier felt this was the perfect distraction, if he was so caught up to actually buy it.

The question was silently asking one of two things: Why are they important to you? Why are the papers important to me?

Right now, the Harrier couldn't place which question was asked, but he could offer a few motives. If someone with ill-intents would ask why it was important to them, it meant they wanted whatever was inside. If it was for the Harrier, he would ask why was it important for himself to get it back to hold possession of said items. But it only leads to one final question… As much as he would have liked to believe there was another, there was only one true question.

Why do I think they're important?

As confusing as it would be to arrive to this question, it was the one thing to affirm what the question was going for. The Harrier knew why they were important to him, so why would this waiter ask this? Well, you might think it was the same as one of the previous questions, but that wasn't the case. If Mr. Maeda was concerned for what importance the papers had, he wouldn't be scared about the Harrier finding out he took a gander through the bag.

It would go like this…

What happens when that guy from yesterday comes back for his bag? If I took items from inside said bag, would he notice? Wouldn't notice?

The papers were not what mattered as the subject matter, it was what would happen if the Harrier found out he was missing items because of Mr. Maeda. If some items had been taken, then this man would be in trouble and have more beef with the Harrier. Although, it wasn't just that. If Mr. Maeda was interested in the contents of said bag then he may have taken them out to see said contents, which meant Mr. Maeda was really asking him: Would you care if they were gone because of me?

_Disgusting_.

But despite all this… the Harrier knew he just had to figure out which of the two outcomes had happened: If Mr. Maeda stole from him or just took things out to look at them. This would be pointless to think about had Mr. Maeda not used 'were' in his question.

Were was past tense; are was present tense.

It could be that the papers he had 'before' wasn't present now. Mr. Maeda was a fool to think the Harrier flunked his Composition classes!

Were denoted the papers were gone. Like... were you doing something before?

Are denoted the papers are here. Are you doing something now?

Either way, the papers were taken out at one point. The Harrier knew his Yen Pins were inside... but how many? He wasn't sure.

All that was left was to find out.

The Reaper's eyes glinted darkly. "Why should you care? Did you or did you not _steal_ from me?" he retorted through a growl.

He had to make this believable, so making himself seem none the wiser by asking if Mr. Maeda stole them instead of asking why Mr. Maeda stole from him would make it all the more authentic. By playing the victim card, Mr. Maeda would cave from the guilt alone… Knowing that he caused undue duress in a teenager would make Mr. Maeda's character type the empathic fool…

And fall right into the Harrier's trap.

The only solution Mr. Maeda had to close this with was to admit defeat and confess for his wrongful actions.

Hook, line… _and_ sinker! Ready when you are, Mr. Maeda! Why don't you be a dear and have the honour of ending the scene... the audience is waiting for you...

Pitifully shaking in response, the waiter gaped haplessly at the Reaper, who kept waiting for the answer. The Harrier didn't care how much the waiter was squirming before him… he wanted to know what the waiter did to his belongings. It would have been easy to just walk out and check the bag's contents outside to save time… but the Reaper couldn't help himself with messing with the man who was nosy not just with others' conversations, but with their possessions as well.

The man should have kept his business to himself... but he hadn't. Now all he had to do was pay the price!

"_Maeda_!" the deep, gritty, hearty shout made the Harrier stiffen. "How have you-"

Sadist Saiyama... These two know each other.

Time felt as if it was slowing down to nothing; the prescience alone made him quickly hone in on the fact that if he were to explain himself now he wouldn't gain positive results. Up to now, he held the fluidity of the situation- it would only snowball if he stuck around to see what would happen next. He was so caught up with knowing the actual truth it would only derail him now if he had to deal with the old man on top of things!

It wasn't hard to know what Mr. Maeda would do now. Mr. Maeda had backup- _backup_ meant it was over! As much as it frustrated the Harrier he had lost items to this fool, the Harrier had to abandon ship.

Without a second thought, the Harrier grabbed his knapsack and bolted to the door. He barely scraped past the Reaper he shot a glare at in passing before slamming the door open.

Once in the streets, the Harrier gasped and exhaled raggedly as he seethed. **'Why does Sadist Saiyama keep popping out of thin air to spite me, dammit!?'** He clutched his knapsack close, feeling himself tremble as he began to walk, only to stumble forward. **'Wh-Why won't he leave me alone!? I had that fool cornered and he **_**had**_** to show up!'**

The wingless Reaper pushed forward, ignoring how the ground felt… wavy to him. That thought stopped him, making him glance around in confusion as the lights gave off an aura and a pit in his stomach formed at how dark it was outside… No, he hadn't been in there for hours- why was it dark? Putting a hand on his head, he grimaced and half-closed his eyes.

He noticed it was light again…

Setting down his bag absently, hearing it thud faintly, he inhaled deeply before he withdrew his hand. He silently regarded the fact that he couldn't see any of the vultures, so did the Round end? Maybe that's why Sadist Saiyama was-

He lurched forward, felt something close around his left wrist and a hand had pressed itself against his shoulder. Suddenly, he realized how dizzy he felt, his vision swimming before he felt himself sitting down and blinked dazedly beside his knapsack. **'What the…'**

"A-Are you alright?" asked a gentle voice.

He whipped his head to an ebony haired girl with the same shade of worried orbs gazing at him, pink lips shifting as if being nibbled on... He noted that it was just another Reaper. To be exact, it was a Support Reaper, seeing that a red hoodie was clinging baggily to her slim form.

"Uh… I guess so?" he replied slowly, uncertain to how he got to sit on the ground so fast but chalked it up to the dizziness. He nodded his head to her, frowning slightly. "...Thank you."

"Hmm… still fainting?" she murmured worriedly, but all that did was splash a bucket of glacier water over him. Why was _that_ the first thing she said to him!? Was this morning's failed performance that memorable that it Imprinted the Reapers into remembering it as the most significant thing to be reminded of him by!? He had no clue whether he would have wished for her to have said something about the meltdown he threw at Sadist Saiyama later on, or embrace how he really was a fool from the morning debriefing…

The Harrier tilted his head down, a wave of humiliation returning as he mumbled lamely, "W-Was… Did I just faint?"

There was _no_ _way_ he fainted just now! _Not_ when he was fuming about Sadist Saiyama seconds before- _not_ when he literally faked it because now this was just bullshit! He was literally throwing out a bowl for the vultures to pluck their impressions of him from for the fuck of it!

When he slowly raised his head, she was nodding as she breathed out, "You almost hit your head again."

**'Okay-'** thought the Harrier in irritation, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep his eyes on the other Reaper. **'She must have had a front row seat to see how much of a fool I was to think I could easily make an exit with a feigned syncopation! This is **_**just**_** beautiful…'**

"Y-You saw that, huh?" he said instead of voicing his internal commentary, feeling small and awkward from the thought that he couldn't just shrug off the morning scene now. He was right- Reapers wouldn't remember his pitch-slash-tantrum, they would _only_ remember the wingless syncopater! "Got to be one of my most humiliating moments here," he went on sheepishly, feeling odd about it as he so wished to not look more of a fool than he made himself appear to be to this Reaper. "I-I must be the highlight to all of the vultures' Day, hahaha…"

"N-No, why would you?" she breathed as she frowned back. "I-I thought they may have brought you to the Officers that healed, or you were resting in the Barracks."

"...No reason," he breathed quickly, coughing into his right arm, "Couldn't bear the thought of staying in today…" He gestured towards her as calmly as he could. "We all got to eat to survive here, especially if it's the last Day to scrape on by."

"Mmm… I see." She nodded; her ebony eyes glowing as she leaned closer to him, only to stop when he instinctively jerked away. She frowned, tilting her head. "What is wrong?"

He cleared his throat, coolly gazing back. "People like personal space."

"Oh!" She inched herself away, casting her gaze downward. "Forgot about that…" He squinted at her, wondering why it sounded wrong when she said it… Was he reading too deeply into this? "Sorry…" she trailed off, giving him an expectant look.

All he did was cross his legs, his knapsack sitting snug in his lap as he rested his weight on it. "I'm not touchy-feely, so don't do it again," he said curtly, closing his eyes as he huffed crossly, "It's not cool- or cute- to shove your face into my face-" He raised a finger up in the air. "Guys don't like that."

She blinked and he placed his hand back down, watching as she nodded. The female Reaper soon knelt down before resting on her knees…

...When did he stop sitting like that? This Reaper must have been from a traditional family as he had been, however, he felt as if he's lost so much of himself lately he could hardly keep up with the culture his family enforced into him years before his father died. He had to learn and pick up the rest of the slack himself…

Where did _that_ recollection come from? He couldn't help but frown to himself that at this moment in time he would suddenly think about his family when-

"I see," she murmured with one last nod, offering a demure smile. "Sorry again."

"Just don't do it, okay?" he sighed, shaking his head. "Though, I find it odd you happened to catch me…" He raised his head, opening his eyes as he caught himself. "Not to be rude or ungrateful that you had." Manners were still important when someone did you a solid, after all.

The female Reaper slowly blinked, appearing baffled when she gave a short string of giggles, "I guess that makes sense from your standpoint."

Immediately, he opened his mouth to muse on that when a spike of pain entered his skull. He half-gasped and half-cried out as he smacked a hand to the pulsing region, hissing as anything else seemed impossible to focus on.

Mumbles filled the air, yet he couldn't figure out what was being said. Then he felt so cold, numb as he gasped as air seemed impossible to breathe in… panicking when he couldn't yet couldn't do anything-

That thought remained.

* * *

The Harrier gasped, inhaling raggedly as he scrambled to pull himself off the cement when something weighed him down… No wait, that was a hand….

A hand?

...Something was trying to pin him down and _strangle_ him!

He immediately grasped onto the familiar energy, pushing it quickly through his veins as he waited for a Pin to boot up when he realized he couldn't feel any of his Pins. Why didn't have his Pins!? This was just fantastic! Now he had to fight basically naked with his raw strength alone… There was no room for errors when you were facing against one with the intent to kill. Thus, he had to get himself out of there as soon as possible, locate his Pins, then figure out where he could lay low until the threat was absent.

He struggled against his assailant, rearing a hand back only to be cuffed on the side of his head. "Ow!" Were they trying to bash their fist through his head and into his skull!? Why did that _hurt_ so much!? It made him woozy immediately and he could hardly figure out the best weak points to aim at, shaking his head as he tried to concentrate better-

"Seriously… I would never have thought I'd hear a lame excuse for a cry of pain from a little smack like that."

The pain of getting struck on the head wasn't important to focus on when Sadist Saiyama was the one pinning the Harrier down in the streets- Of course- it all made sense now! That man was sent to personally Erase him! He must have gotten ambushed by that old man after his dizzy spell, the girl unable to react before the Harrier was dragged off!

...What didn't make sense was why he was being pinned down in a bed.

He screamed only to have Sadist Saiyama slap a hand over his mouth. He immediately grabbed onto the man's rough hands, clawing at them and growling in frustration when he failed to remove them from his jaw-

A sigh sounded.

"Do you really believe this is making the situation any better, Mr. Saiyama?" asked the Conductor, who had just walked in.

The Harrier froze, kept his hands clamped around some of the old man's sausage fingers and gawked at the posh bastard. It wasn't long before the Sadist from above scoffed, "_No_." Flickering his gaze to the ex-army man, the Harrier threw a dirty look when the man boomed on with lacklustre, "He looked ready to fall out of bed- then I find myself having to stop him from panicking when _I_ tried to help him back into it."

...Bullshit. There was _no way_ the Harrier was going let the old man get away with mishandling the truth of the situation! He didn't delay himself from acting upon that to angrily yell against the hand, only to fume more at how his words came out muffled, "Nough wa wall- eye won two no wha' theb fuk is guuing awn deer!"

In response to the Harrier's poorly conceived input, all the posh bastard did was rub his temples with his right hand. "Remove your hand. It is... agitating him."

The Harrier rolled his eyes. **'What gave you _that_ idea?'** He mentally imitated the posh bastard to himself as Sadist Saiyama stepped away, finally giving back the Harrier his rightful ownership of freedom of speech. ...Might as well use it as it should be used for.

"Why the fuck did you _kidnap_ _me_!?" he spat furiously.

Straightaway, the cream and white suited man closed his midnight blue eyes. "I have to wonder if stripping you of your wings taught you enough…" He frowned as he sighed, "Should I demote you to a Support Reaper, or will you act accordingly?"

The Harrier Reaper narrowed his eyes. "I feel so violated right now. Do you know that?" When the Conductor didn't respond, Sadist Saiyama raising an unimpressed eyebrow and snorted, the Harrier crossed his arms and huffed out, "Clearly you don't, because I'm _really_ enjoying the royalty treatment here…" He rolled his eyes when he raised his shoulders in a half shrug. "...Not that being manhandled is new to me."

Sadist Saiyama was about to bark out something when the posh bastard spoke up, "We gave you a bed to rest in, what other comforts from home can we give you?"

"Ah, well... since you asked..." he started tartly, pausing for a bit to hum before he finished, "_Nothing_." The Harrier went on to leer at the posh bastard, sneering as he chuckled bitterly, "The only comfort I have is my imagination." He narrowed his eyes and shallowly put in, "Not that _you_ care… or at least, recall why you _can't_."

"I would like for us to have a single civil conversation without you lashing out," said the Conductor carefully as he sauntered to a nearby chair- that was already pointing towards the bed- to slowly sit down. He soon went on dismissively, after he shifted his wooden cane so it could rest on his lap, "But it would appear you would rather bite the hand that feeds you..."

Rolling his eyes as he moved his head gradually to gaze away, the Harrier scoffed, "Get to the point already… You're wasting my time."

"Today you fainted this morning," said the Conductor coldly, pulling out a File from the table beside him… The Harrier could only _guess_ whose it was. "Then this late afternoon has found you unconscious in the streets, by Mr. Saiyama, after your fellow Harrier Reaper vouched for you to go outside instead of resting in bed."

"Unconscious?" Should he mention the fact he fainted a second-third time? Nah, the Harrier had an idea where the posh bastard was going with this. The Harrier wasn't about to slip that information; it was a terrible idea and especially dangerous to let loose to the posh bastard of all people! Not only would that confirm the stuck up Conductor... it would only relent the control of the Harrier's situation he found himself in.

Being found unconscious in the streets… huh. He could have sworn he was still standing in the streets as the girl… the girl… _the_ _girl_!

The Harrier zeroed in on the fact that the posh bastard framed the scene as if the Harrier was alone when 'found' by Sadist Saiyama, which begged the question of where the girl went? Whoever she was, she was still chatting with him before he woke up to the posh bastard and the army man watching him… Okay, as creepy as the fact that the last two people he wanted to see right now- and would rather off himself to finally get himself away from now- were intent on looming over him during his prone state, the girl was missing from that scene apparently.

Fantastic. Wasn't he such a lucky guy to own the shoes of?

This didn't sit well with the Harrier, so he decided to focus on something more immediate and pressing. "For your information, the beds are shit."

...He was proud of himself.

"That does not excuse yourself from sleeping in them," responded the Conductor sternly, narrowing his eyes as he continued on, "I had my misgivings of your earlier fainting spell… but I am now certain you must have some kind of health issue we had failed to find from you before you arrived on the Plane."

The Harrier shook his head. "I'm in the clear. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Funny, because you had two fainting spells today, and you are fine with it…" The Conductor frowned warily. "Officer Reapers deemed you to have had a burnout-" He carded through the folder, making the Harrier glower as the man soon pulled out a single page. "But it could be from your lack of motivation to Erase Players you have not killed yourself."

"So," breathed the Harrier coolly, scrunching his face up as he growled, "It wasn't a quick Conductor-Reaper bonding time, was it?" He turned away, laughing out humourlessly, "You knocked me out, without my awareness, just to trap me in a room to finally finish off your lecture from yesterday… O_h_ what fun I'm looking forward to!"

"You were passed out on the streets!" barked Sadist Saiyama with a growl, giving a rough shake of his head as he continued, "Just shut your pie-hole and pay attention already!"

"Oh joy," sneered the Harrier with an eye-roll, turning his head sharply to the posh bastard. "You're not feeling confident to face me, so you roped in Sadist Saiyama to babysit us!" He smirked, enjoying the way the Conductor's eye twitched slightly. "Needing someone else to back your sorry ass up-"

"_Enough_." The Conductor's eyes coldly watched him, shifting to sit up taller as he spoke, "Cease your abysmal attitude and lend us your ear." He paused, leering at the Harrier who scoffed as the Conductor decided to continue his lacklustre lecture, "As of the moment, you have had no hindrances in the Underground other than your choice to ignore the majority of Players to pursue your useless game of chase. These fainting spells may be detrimental to yourself, and it is significant to identify their origins to save yourself the shame of the perchance to sporadically fade away. It gives reason for you to not test fate, lest you yearn for it..."

"And it has happened to other Reapers?" asked the Harrier snippily, tsking as he crossed his arms. "Or you're trying to intimidate me to gain compliance to speak your heart out?"

The posh bastard shook his head. "That latter point is an aimless claim, but you should at least understand Reapers lying unresponsive on the streets is an uncommon sight to see."

"So you say…" hissed the Harrier lowly, earning a look from Sadist Saiyama. He sat up as the blankets shifted from being disturbed again, clasping his hands as he growled out, "I don't see how you view dragging off a Reaper, such as myself, to interrogate me wherever we are as an act of generosity." He scowled as he pressed his intertwined hands down on his lap. "Correct me if I am wrong…" The Harrier sighed slowly, "Are you serious that I'll bend to your will from being led to believe you care about me by your words alone?"

"It is not about that-"

"Okay, then give back my Pins and I'll see myself out," he said as he turned to the edge of the bed, dragging his legs along with the motion, aware of how Sadist Saiyama immediately inched towards him. He scowled from under his hood, darkly regarding the goliath and kept his gaze on the posh bastard as he growled, "I am definitely not going to listen to your nonsense about what I do for a living…"

The Conductor spoke with crisp strictness, "We are not finished."

Before the Harrier went past the seated fool, he felt a spike rush through him. He instantly found himself reaching forward to catch the posh bastard's stupid cane, that was in the middle of whipping before his front. His palm ached at the force of the wood, stricken by a sudden anxiousness as he felt his eyes bulge. **'The posh bastard almost got me-' **He pressed his lips to be flat.** 'And _that_ hurt more than I was expecting.'**

The Conductor's lightning fast swing could only mean he was skilled in physical strikes- aka, Positive Psyches- so it wasn't hard to imagine the posh bastard wielded a sword at one point before trading it in for the literal crutch that nearly clubbed the Harrier. The nineteen-year-old couldn't help but file that knowledge away in his mental fact list about the posh bastard, ignoring the ringing sting of his hand as he thought about this.

Warily, he craned his head to catch how the Conductor's midnight eyes widened, then the Harrier decided it was worth breaking the ice before the other man could butt his way in. The Harrier narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip as he smoothed his voice out. "You're lucky that I hate your guts already… imagine if the other Reapers had been witnesses?"

The Conductor's face softened as he smiled politely. "I understand this is tiring for you... if you are that eager to leave..."

"Oh great!" chirped the Harrier fauxly, slowly guiding himself sideways and making his fingers wiggle and crawl along the smooth cane. There was no way he was going to let the posh bastard try to smack him with that cane again, so he tried to monitor the level of the stick as he went on, "Then how about... you stay the fuck away from me and give me peace then?"

As the Harrier was nearing the other end, releasing his hand to skip on over to the other side of his previously barred path, the posh bastard added, "However, I insist you desist your departure lest you want me to return your Pins."

"Whoa-" The Harrier whipped back to glare at the posh bastard. "You wouldn't _dare_…" he growled as he suddenly realized familiar energy was present with the man threatening him, bristling as he shouted out, "I need those for _my_ protection!"

"Not when I hereby order for you to return to the Barracks until I trust that remaining there will nurse you well again," said the Conductor slowly and sickeningly sweet, withdrawing his cane as he closed his eyes. "I am afraid it will not bode well to let one of my Reapers run freely, knowing they will trip seconds after they go forth. I expect that you will not find it easy if you fail to heed these instructions."

The Harrier gawked at the posh bastard, shaking his head as he balled his hands before pushing himself forward to snarl, "Sending me to 'my room' is a damn perfect solution to put me in line- _that's_ what you think will teach me a lesson-" He trembled before he added harshly when he stomped down hard, "What a loaded phantasy!"

"I only have hopes it will advert another of your slips into unconsciousness…" said the man lightly, the taunt thickly weaved into his spiteful tone. "I am not a heartless man to see when one of my Reapers are not taking care of themselves, nor do I wish for your state to worsen without taking the necessary precautions to bade them."

The Harrier growled in his throat, unsteadily breathing as he shook his head stiffly. "_No_." He backed away, feeling his body go rigid as he watched the Conductor move to stand and snarled out coldly, "As if I'd _roll over _to present my underbelly to _you_!"

He shook as he met resistance behind him, suddenly aware of how small this room was to his dismay. It didn't matter, he told himself, as he glowered at the two fools staring back at him, jabbing his shoulder blades forward as he harshly exhaled before clenching his eyes shut. All that mattered was retrieving his Pins now that he had them pinpointed by the man keeping them hostage…

The Harrier felt his chest tighten as he threw his eyes open to darkly gaze at the two fools. He couldn't be more nauseous that he was going to be caged inside and put on standby like he was inept and useless- couldn't bear the thought of not being able to leave as he so desperately wanted to right now-

Especially when it was so dark in there…

Immediately, he felt his hand drift, clasping over his mouth barely as he shuddered and his vision doubled. He could see his fingers vibrate in the edges of his lower vision and smelt the harsh odour of oil and rubber rising- stuffing up his nose and continued breathing it in.

The Harrier choked on a pitiful sob, gagging on it as he could almost picture his own bile rising from his throat. **'N-Not… n-now…'** He blearily made out how the smoke was burning his eyes, making them ache, making them half-close as if it would protect them from the rotten damage they already sustained from all these torturous fumes-

A lump filled his chest cavity, twisting and creating heaviness that made it impossible to keep himself from concentrating on maintaining his footing. He hated how easy it seemed his body gave up when he was involuntarily allowing for it- drifting and drifting as agony cascaded his upper regions to tip and waver on a small perch pressing on his ribcage as ringing toiled and screwed around with his hearing and deafened it as it all continued to-

Suddenly fade away…

His breath hitched, his watery vision slowly clearing as tears welled off of them. A lightness filled his chest and he choked out a laugh as his head grew fuzzy and danced with flashes that flickered- no, were gushing around in his gaze.

_A younger him beaming as his father patted him on the shoulder as his mother hugged him firm with glee; having scored higher than all of his classmates during the last period of exams this year._

_Sitting at the cubudai with his father; debating lightly of how certain problems could be solved in outlandish but surprisingly functional ways._

_Helping his mother with dinner despite being chided to let her do it; being told how stubborn and thoughtful it was for him to lessen the burden for her when she knew how tired she was._

_Meeting his grandparents during their Kyoto trip for the first time; awestruck as he was coaxed into learning how to copy a textile they often made in their shops and thoroughly enjoyed the process of the designs he weaved and quickly got used to._

_Huddled half in his futon; eagerly reading a factual book before his father swapped it with a manual explaining the structure and processes of creating, setting up and managing theatre performances to the boy's delight._

_Enjoying the attention of one of his classes as he took them through a logical thought process of how they should best delegate themselves to their after-school cleaning duties; thriving on how they heeded him and finished twenty-three minutes earlier without sacrificing their work quality._

_Watching his father work at the bodega while Mrs. Gotarutsu talked his ear off with one of the stories about his father; distinctly remembering a common theme of his father struggling to ward off girls infatuated with him the times before meeting the boy's mother._

Soon the images faded out, leaving him to inhale deeply before the high wore off and left him feeling numb and empty. He blinked, feeling crustiness along his cheeks. He slowly thumbed the skin, confused as to when he had been crying before it occurred to him he was sitting on his knees on the ground.

Blinking quickly this time, he drew his gaze to silently regard the fact a black haired woman in a navy kimono was standing up on his left side. Her black boots clicked against the floor as she turned, bowing halfway from reaching the door before she briskly exited the room. The Harrier was soon aware she had left him with Sadist Saiyama and the posh bastard, who was grimly observing the Harrier from the chair he had been in earlier, as well as the surreality of this unfolding to create a squirming uneasiness in his chest.

The pale-suited man slowly rose to sit up straight from leaning in the Harrier's direction, exhaling softly before murmuring, "I can only imagine no such good will culminate from restricting you to your quarters… if that elicited a panic attack from the mere mention." He rubbed the underside of his chin when moving his right hand over it. "Or is my presumption wrong?"

Right away, the Harrier's throat felt dry and it was painful to swallow as he gazed back in distraught, letting out a shudder of his breath before he shook his head. "Wh-What did you…?" he managed to breathe out before lowering his hand to press it down on the floor, pushing against it to slowly rise to his feet as he went on with an unintentional mumble, "D-Don't tell me you Imprinted me…?"

He steadied his footing, keeping close to the wall to slowly scowl at the posh bastard. "What did you do to me!?" he spat out as his face grew taut, clenching his hands as he went on coldly, "Whatever damn thing you forced into my skull-" He abruptly stepped forward to snarl, "_Tell me_\- I _want_ to know!"

The Conductor sighed, placing a hand to his left temple, "Is it hard to believe we were only trying to help you?"

"Cut the crap!" he snapped as he lashed a hand across his front, jabbing a finger towards the fool afterward. "All you did was screw with my mind! Hopping me up to hopefully neutralize me because you see me as a threat to your fucking perfect world of narrow-minded _structure_ and _order_!" He instantly stepped back, lowering his gaze as he glared hard at the floor. "You were trying to make me _conform_, _blissfully_ aware I was _dancing_ to your tune-"

The posh bastard inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly, dipping his head when he murmured, "However you created this sort of delusion of me… I would hate to learn where its origins lie."

Laughing dryly at that, the Harrier shook his head before he tilted it, glancing back warily. "Now that-" He raised a finger in the air. "- is my secret." He turned away, smirking to himself as he humoured the thought of nitpicking and going down the list of every reason he thought the posh bastard did more ill to the Underground and Reapers than he did good... The Harrier soon stopped when he realized he shouldn't have let his guard down this easily.

Deciding to fix that mistake, he collected himself before eyeing the suited man skeptically as he spoke low and irritable, "...What did you _do_ to me?"

Sadist Saiyama lumbered forward, scowling his way as the army man grunted, "He only sent in an Imprinter to draw you out of the episode you were having." As he crossed his arms, he growled gruffly, "I didn't want to even have an Imprinter to come in because who knows what was used to make you laugh as you had! Hate how they know which buttons to push and to manipul-"

The posh bastard coughed dryly, which was enough to divert the larger man's attention. The army man grumpily met the cold gaze of the fawn-coloured haired man before he huffed hotly, "_What_? You thought it was a better option or something, Oshiro?"

"I will ask for you to keep your opinion of that to yourself when it does not pertain to what had to be done," sternly returned the posh bastard as a frown fell over his hardened face. He turned back to the Harrier, regarding him boldly as he spoke on, "There was no need to tamper with your mind, only free yourself from your apparent… 'episode'."

"Do you really expect I'm going to take that!?" spat the Harrier harshly, shaking his head before he tipped it up and frowned deeply. "You may say all that you want, but I know you screwed with me! In fact-" He whipped towards the door, forcing himself forward instead of yelling his head off like he wanted to. "I don't have to stand here and listen to your bullshit!"

Within a second, he froze in alarm as an uncomfortable sensation shot through him.** 'Oh no ****you don't-'**

He pivoted rapidly to meet Sadist Saiyama head on, thrusting himself backwards and crouching to duck from the army man's swipe before realizing he misjudged his direction. When his back hit the wall, in his disorientation, he tried to throw himself sideways only for his stomach to whirl as Sadist Saiyama's hand successfully grasped the back of his hoodie and hauled the Harrier up.

"Let _go_ of me!" he yelled furiously, trying to writhe to dislodge the man's grip. He soon gasped breathlessly when the murky-eyed man thrust his other hand against the Harrier's chest to slam the Reaper's spine into the wall, momentarily seeing stars as he felt weightless in the man's hold. Pressure from the force of the army man's palm was the only thing his sluggish mind could focus on, trying his best to refocus his vision and gather his bearings to release himself as soon as he possibly could. He wheezed as white and black flashed and blotted his vision, yet he couldn't imagine why his hearing of all things wasn't impacted as his other senses were right now.

"Listen here, _boy_-" snarled Sadist Saiyama as he harshly breathed out; the Harrier's vision cleared briefly to see a gruesomely horrifying death glare was attached to the ex-army man's face. "Have you ever thought about how you're nothing but a spoiled brat!? Do you think throwing tantrums will make yourself appealing for _anyone_ to pay attention to your bullshit!?" His eyes blazed harsher. "_Do you_!?"

"_Fuck you_-" the Harrier managed to growl out when the pressure became stronger; it made him falter the rest of his piece, to feebly cough and sputter out shallow air instead. Was this really necessary? For the old man to hold the Harrier against his will, going the extreme when all the man could have done was yell at the Harrier as he went out the door? He didn't deserve this foul treatment- not when the Harrier saw no reason to remain here when there was nothing to be gained from being lectured again.

He glowered as hard as he could as the man thrust his face closer to boom out, "You're not important- you're just an insect everyone wants to just squish! Your words are hollow promises that contribute nothing of importance or meaning like this!" The Harrier tried to violently jerk his body to loosen the man's grip, gritting his teeth as the furious man snarled louder, "What a waste of space you are… having to listen to you and our higher-up bicker like toddlers when you two can't see eye-to-eye despite how both of you want the same, damn, _thing_!"

The Harrier coughed as he sneered weakly, "Wh-What would we-" He wheezed before twitching forward as he spat through the pain, "I'm _nothing_ like the-that posh bas-_bastard_!"

Trying to wildly shake himself for another attempt, it took half a second to realize his hood was shifting before he tried to still his body as soon as he could to stop it from moving further. He would have hissed out a string of curses when, in the edge of his vision, one corner of his hood pulled back when his head rubbed the wall from behind him. ...Why did friction have to crow at him when he already had enough shit on his plate!?

He tried to reach for the black fabric only to have his wrist get caught seamlessly by a rough, callused hand. The moment it clamped on to him, it caused him to release a gagged scream that went mute in a thrice, clenching his eyes shut instantaneously at the white, hot agony rippling from the grip. **'Sh-Shit- shit- shit- D-Don't ****snap off my arm!'**

The Harrier felt his lower jaw open and close loosely as he tried tugging his arm back, cursing the sadist as he could only barely squirm on the wall. He wanted nothing more than to get out of this as he opted to kick his legs that only reacted by swaying where they dangled. His frustration flared through his veins and he switched tactics to bend his legs back as much as he could, hopefully for him to push off from the wall to unbalance the hand pinning him there... The Harrier couldn't feel the wall, he realized, as his lower appendages were simply limp and he couldn't even feel them anymore. How could he not be able to get his damn legs to work!?

...All because of how Sadist Saiyama's nickname held true to its legitimacy... That's what, he told himself bitterly as he resigned to leave his lower limbs be.

He then thrust his other arm to the old man's restraining hand as another attempt to free himself, catching how a self-made breeze danced past his fingertips... The Harrier was aware of how his limb swung back to go slightly to and fro from the dying momentum, instantly switching tactics again to fight for a chance to gasp if he wanted to get a last ditch effort in to scream...

And yet, his lungs refused to cooperate with him... leaving the painful lump to stretch across his chest...

The Harrier took more time than necessary to force his suddenly leaden eyelids up and found colours were swimming in front of him... He was unable to discern which kind they were as he tried harder to cry out for this to stop... It didn't matter who he wanted the cry to be reached out to... he knew he couldn't get out of this on his own... Even the Conductor would suffice if it meant... if he could...

He could hardly grasp on to what he wanted to finish that thought off with as it felt like his mind was becoming a soupy fog... It was too heavy for him to see the bottom of the bowl that held its contents in... too thick to traverse through to get where he had to... However, what was left for him to draw out to reflect upon... as it felt like his senses were drifting from him... was the reason why he was going to be Erased if this went on for much longer...

Sadist Saiyama was nothing more than a batshit oldster... just like the vultures were telling him... And here he was, experiencing it first-hand... or should he just call it a last-hand...? He was pretty sure this would be the only time... seeing as his body was too slack to listen to his distressful brain's quietening instructions…

His eyes ached; they were welling up... which he had come to discover as something warm trickled down his cheeks... They didn't feel wet as they should have been... they-

New pain coursed through his left side, causing him to gasp mutely as he soon found himself sprawled on the floor that was fading in and out of his speckling vision. It was then that his body acted instinctually to try and draw breath in miraculously. The Harrier realized he was exhausted for some reason; still unable to work his limbs as he laid half-face down and his chest throbbed dully.

...The sadist...? What happened...? Why...?

He grimaced slightly, starting to feel sensations roll back into him and the colours were becoming less smudged and dappled. He began grasping on to the little snippets of thoughts beginning to form in his head, gasping in again while releasing a faint noise only to fail when his lungs protested for no damn reason. He started to move his gaze around, however surprisingly hard it was for him to do so, in hopes he could figure out the meaning of this.

Dizziness all but lolled his head, leaving him with no choice but to peek out from under his scrunched hood.

Sadist Saiyama was shouting in silence before stomping away angrily to slam the door open; there was no hesitance or pause as the man disappeared into the darkness of the doorway… wherever they were in the Shibuya River. Probably the Shibuya River... yeah, that had to be it... The Harrier tried to inhale again, only pulling in little air to softly meet his burning lungs as the Conductor silently observed the now broken door hanging helplessly on its upper and half-broken middle hinges. It was almost as if it chose to slowly close itself when the posh bastard sighed long and held it for a moment more, soon tilting his head around to regard the Harrier dismissively.

If only the Harrier could meet the man's gaze right now... it would save him the trouble of appearing as the downed, lousy survivor of Sadist Saiyama...

Already the man was heading over- to spite him of course!- while speaking coolly, "You certainly make the world exciting to suffocate in…" The Harrier tried to leer up at the man who didn't even bother to tower over him; it was as if he was disgusted by how Sadist Saiyama hadn't finished the deed of terminating the Harrier from the posh bastard's existence as the old man should have. All the Conductor did was stand there, posture rigid yet held properly, shifting his cane as the man narrowed his midnight-blue eyes and frowned grimly. "Doing good deeds for you only has the inverted effects, so I have to ask." He placed his right hand on his cane, likely putting his weight on it as he sniffed, "Is keeping you around worth it?"

Instantly, the Harrier opened his mouth, only to inwardly seethe at how he could barely pull his lips to weakly growl, "Th-The Composer must have something in mind for me to do to entertain Him with." He tried to flick open his eyes more as he coughed in a dry chuckle, "I don't know about you… b-but I hardly see the value of letting you stick around."

"Enough." The Conductor tilted his head slightly as he continued to gaze down with disdain. "If it were up to me, I would have Erased you within a heartbeat on the Day I found you where you did not belong." The Harrier narrowed his eyes to slits at that, pretending the memory wasn't trying to dip into his thoughts as the posh bastard saw reason to continue lowly, "For twelve Weeks now-"

"E-Eight…" mumbled the Harrier.

"- you had such promise to flourish and use your gifts in the Underground…" The Conductor closed his eyes, slowly starting to shake his head. "Yet now, all I see is a waste of potential. All you ever do is stir up discord and run wild with sick, twisted notions you are doing right by doing wrong- stealing away the lives of those who should not have been here because of your lack of ability to hold on to reality.

"I have waited to see if you would come to your senses by now. However... it would appear I have been misguided to believe such a dream would come true," sniffed the fawn-coloured haired man coldly, blinking as he pursed his lips and removed his right hand to reach into his breast pocket.

The suited man clipped a Pin onto one of his lapels- better _not_ be one of the hostages he was keeping from the Harrier- and paused briefly before tapping his cane twice. Within a blink of an eye, grains of violet and tangerine drifted around in a powdery, spiralling circle. They were partly bunched together from inside the manifested bubble hovering above the Conductor's right palm... particles suspended from within its thin, iridescent spherical veil...

The Reaper was aware of a heartbeat pulsing. There was such... vibrancy, within the depths of its core... No, within _their_ cores... The Harrier felt his face soften involuntarily as he listened to them, drinking in the melodic notes that somehow reached his ears- maybe even his soul, if he were to be poetic... He blinked slowly, feeling the need to find the distinction between them, what made them so-

With a jolt, he realized he had started to drool.

He immediately tried to pull his gaze away from being mesmerized by the carrot on a stick; the posh bastard was screwing with him again! Of course the man was, it was a ploy devised to purposefully screw with the Harrier! By letting Sadist Saiyama soften the Harrier up, causing the Harrier to be weak from near suffocation, the posh bastard may have thought the Harrier wouldn't be able to resist the pull he felt for these lost Souls.

How _disgusting_...

Successfully managing to lower his eyes, he busied himself with leering at the man's spotless dress shoes instead. "...And you keep making me out to be the bad guy," grumbled the Harrier into the floor.

A sigh came from the Conductor, "The Round ended with a less than ideal outcome. Even the Gamemaster perished."

"So the goodies go to the riches? Makes sense," snarked the Harrier with a small scoff afterward, "Makes sense…"

"The Players were exceptional this time around," added the posh bastard for no reason; slightly shifting his right hand and the bubble outward. Was this going to be some object of affection that was going to be used as a prop to lecture him further? Eh… probably. "Unless we want Noise of surmountable power loose in the Plane, I had to borrow a Stash Psych to delay the disintegration of their Cyphers."

"Bien por ti," offered the Harrier with a weak smack of his jaw afterwards, sighing slowly while rolling his eyes, "Lo siento... olvidé traer las rosas." He weakly started to chuckle at that last part. He couldn't always tell if he nailed Spanish perfectly all the time… but he was sure things wouldn't get too lost in translation this time.

The posh bastard shook his head from what the Harrier could feel. "I feel as if I am being soft in your regard…" Same old news… Would the man bring on the point already, or was he enjoying the sound of his voice too much? "You will stand up and accept these Reaper Points, as you should, as I did you a favour that you have not deserved."

Immediately, the Harrier narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me, when was the last time I said I needed _your_ help?"

"You did not need to ask," came the posh bastard's curt reply. "You may remain where you are and I will see myself out, or you will get off the floor and accept them."

"Well then," the Harrier said, his voice raising despite the cough threatening to disrupt its flow. "I don't see what's so bad about me refusing your offer."

"This is not an offer." The posh bastard shifted, his cane clicking the floor. "I will personally ensure this room will be secured and leave you here, if you refuse to cooperate now, until you relearn your common sense. As I said before, I am finished letting you dance around me when your attitude is abysmal… so I must act accordingly to rectify my inability to enact proper actions sooner."

The Harrier, in spite of how his body was refusing to work for him, decided he might as well dip his feet further into the quicksand he was being pulled into. It wouldn't be right to give this man his satisfaction of winning, per say.

"You already took my wings, why aren't you sated with the damage you have wrought to me?" he started lowly, narrowing his eyes to slits as he went on irritably, "If it were your intentions to cripple me then kick me harder when I'm beneath you, I will not fall for it." He shook his head stiffly. "I'm _not_ a toy who will dance for you! _I _decide when I should eat and when I will wait in starvation!"

"Then you are trite and foolish," responded the posh bastard coldly. "Delusioned as you cling to your stubbornness when you are not far off from suffering. I say I am a reasonable man, but when am I pushed I will make it clear that I can and will shove back. In such a case, I am not going to let these Souls go to waste because of the likes of you."

"Just _go_ already…" grumbled the Harrier as he closed his eyes with a sigh. "Lock me in, let me lick my wounds... perhaps I will even get used to solitude." Immediately, the posh bastard's body twitched, earning a smirk from the Harrier who hummed contently, "Who knows? You may have the opportunity to forget about me while the world wonders what the Conductor did to that wingless Harrier who just wanted to do a right!"

"You will stand up without me aiding you, accept the Points then head straight to the Barracks and _remain_ there," sternly ordered the Conductor who was positively bristling. "Unlike the privilege we gave you earlier, you will remain in the Shibuya River- in your room if need be- for you to learn your lesson. You will not be allowed to go outside nor will you be allowed to pass over to the Realground at any instance for the unseeable future. If you do cross over, you will know you will have a seat in the next Reapers' Game… as a Player." After a brief pause, he sniffed, "Hopefully you will be reminded of your place if that has come to it."

"As if I'm going to heed your bullshit, asshole!" hissed the Harrier, scoffing before he growled on, "Do you seriously think you're doing yourself a favour by wrongly punishing one of your own Reapers?"

"By now, I believe you are bluffing to yourself when you say you're one of my Reapers." Midnight-blue eyes darkened. "What nonsense are you speaking of?"

The Harrier smirked again, his gaze sharpening as he chuckled coolly, "I have done nothing to deserve this… At least, in the eyes of your Reapers." Upon catching the subtle flinch from the posh bastard, the Harrier decided to press on with his enlightenment, "When you think about it, what evidence _do_ you have at your disposal that I did something against Reaper conduct?"

As he shifted, finally finding enough strength within himself to prop himself up on his forearms, he chucked more, "Freedom of speech is accepted in the Underground. Encouragement of thinking for prosper is advised…" He opened his eyes, feeling his lips curl more as he grinned. "All I have done is faint twice. All I have done was speak from my heart. All that I have done is reach out to my peers. Of all those things I have mentioned… how do any of them prompt disciplinary actions?"

Gathering his strength, he slowly raised his head, closing his eyes as he tilted it. "If you lock me in this room, you are only making yourself out to be the bad guy." He nodded, laughing a little before he went on boldly, "There's _nothing_ you can say to explain yourself when I turn up missing- _nothing_ you could do to convince your Reapers you were right to take care of me- because I _am_ innocent. They would only wonder why you had chosen to direct your energy onto me, why you had tormented one who was just recovering from a burnout..."

Momentarily stopping, the Harrier drew in that pause for dramatic effect before he went for it. "Wouldn't you say it would sound fishy in their standpoint?"

"Enough-"

Shaking his head hard, the Harrier raised his spirited voice. "_Why_ would you do such a thing? _Had_ you lost your mind? _Have_ you finally snapped and dished out your aggravation on me and left me to fade away? _Get me_ out of the picture for _good_?" He unsteadily inhaled and exhaled, feeling thrill ooze through his system as he piped out harshly, "You're _going_ to be ruined by your careless venture! Your reputation- your respect- your loyal mutts and nobles- _everything_! All because you're throwing a hissy-fit over me not wanting to take a taste of those Souls that _you_ should be dealing with!" He felt his eyes sharpen. "It may sound fine and dandy in your mind- but others wouldn't be so accepting to hear that you imprisoned a Reaper who you've been targeting over the last four Weeks only to hear you let that _same_ Reaper fade!"

"I am more merciful than you give me credit for," barked out the posh bastard, who didn't even falter in his falsely calm tone. "Even if I would command for an Erasure, I would not enact such maltreatment for one who still can heed my words. Like you aforementioned, you have no penalties even though I do have qualms about you. However… you appear to have brought up a remarkable dilemma."

As the man shifted, he soon inhaled before he spoke, "You have fainted more than one should." The Harrier instantly felt energy return to him enough to bristle and jerked his head up to scowl at the man when the posh bastard smiled small. "I will not stand idle to let one of my Reapers run through the streets when his health is not up to par."

"This again?" huffed the Reaper as he turned his gaze down, not wanting to catch sight of the Souls he still felt spinning within the man's grasp again. "Look, I am perfectly fine since you saw me last. So if you would-"

Suddenly, the Harrier was aware of how the man was lowering himself to the ground. He coldly regarded the posh bastard as he settled himself to sit in front of the Harrier's gaze, soon placing his cane off to the side. The first thing the Harrier wanted to do was push his body to roll away as far as he could, yet within moments he found his eyes had become glued to the Souls being... cradled by the posh bastard.

"You see," started the posh bastard as his midnight-blue eyes focused on the Harrier, not straying from the black hoodie wearer as he went on in a fake pleasant tone, "When Reapers have not maintained a consistent schedule of collecting their Reaper Points, even before the eradication process starts they will start to lose their minds at a certain point of starvation. Whether or not you confirm this is your case, Reaper instinct chips in to ensure you are 'eating right'. Especially, in the presence of strong Souls..."

The Harrier wanted to deny the man's claims... yet his chest strained and burned the longer he found himself admiring the Souls in front of him... So beautiful... so bright... pulsing with-

"Throughout our conversation, I could not help but observe you have been refusing to regard myself since I brought out these Souls," added the posh bastard mildly, blinking as he gazed down at the said Souls. "It usually does not set in until a new Reaper has had their first experience with absorbing their first downed Player, but knowing how long you have been in the Underground, your sparse hunts have done you no favour but set you on a crawl. It may not seem humane or advisable for us to even have Reapers made this way, but in the beginning, we had to create some kind of incentive to keep the Reapers' Game Weeks running correctly." He paused to sip in a breath. "I do not usually discuss this with Reapers such as yourself... but I believe it has come to a point where one who has been over his head needs to have the rules retaught to him."

Shaking his head, the Harrier tried to snap himself out of whatever it was that was screwing with his mind. He found it more difficult than he had thought to tear his gaze away from the bubbled Souls, feeling the need to keep staring at the delicacies... He shook his head again, drawing himself back when he found himself too close to the other man and was woozy from a daze. He had to not focus on the Souls, dammit! If he purposefully distracted himself from them, it may do the trick.

He tilted his head up as high as he could without accidentally pushing his hood off, bringing the bottom of his gaze back towards the posh bastard's face and glared darkly. "I _know_ what I'm doing."

The Harrier couldn't look down now... he _couldn't_ afford to look down past the man's chin! He knew the top of the bubble would be located at the man's ribs, and it was hard enough as it is to not feel the Souls squirming and emit some kind of stirring he's never had the chance of sensing for himself. Oh so much stirring... wait until he settled them in his- ...Focus on the posh bastard's face, _dammit_!

"Then why have you allowed yourself to crumple to be how you are in front of me?" asked the posh bastard as his midnight-blue eyes darkened. He shook his head, frowning as he went on sternly, "Why must you follow a delusion that prevents you from taking care of yourself properly? You see the signs, it is hard to not realize that even when you are on the floor, unable to move yourself. I can see that you have a higher tolerance level of maintaining the minimum Points you have collected thus far, but that does not excuse you from choosing to Erase yourself when you have the chance to help yourself."

"Heh." The Harrier couldn't help but smirk, coldly humouring the fantasy that the posh bastard was painting for him. He mumbled out bitterly, "Almost makes it seem like you actually care about me... when we both know you are only doing this to win me over." His gaze lazily trailed down until he caught himself, stiffening as his eyes flickered back to the man's forehead.

Midnight-blue eyes narrowed. "I am not." There was a pause before the man went on, "I am merely allowing myself the deed to warn you of the dangers you clearly are disregarding. Restricting yourself to one source of nourishment, when it is unpresidented to chase after and enact, is methodically the same as squeezing your own neck and not relenting your grip for days. You may think the oxygen you are curtailing is enough to live by... that is, until you find that you are soon choking yourself and dying from relying on it for far too long.

"You have a choice on the matter to Erase Players, yet you only snub them for the Players you have killed," the posh bastard soon came to say with a note of disdain, soon moving his hands closer to the Harrier, who started. He awkwardly began to push himself away, forced to duck his head momentarily to avoid looking at _them_, yet fumed when he couldn't even make any distance from the man. He clenched his eyes tightly shut, shaking his head and trying to not look up when the man asked, "So what is your opinion on the matter of Erasing those you have not killed?"

The Harrier merely glowered at the ground, wanting to snippily make a comeback to ward off the posh bastard, even moreso as the lost Souls were drawn closer to the Harrier. It wasn't about making a statement by only Erasing wrongdoers- the posh bastard had it all wrong! When the Harrier first started to continue after ending the existence of that scumbag, he didn't just move on to newer targets because it was the right course of action to take next... The Harrier just couldn't block it out… becoming almost hyperaware of how things were in the Realground.

It was like… the moment you knew something, everything else relating to said knowledge fell into place around you. The Harrier thought he would go back to how things had been after he finished his punishment for doing what he had, but no- it was _nothing_ like that. As he fell back to trying to pursue Players, he started to see what he used to not notice- was witness to scenes that made him remember the Harrier wasn't the only victim to be born from the world. What should have been criminal activity that was hush-hush to everyone became little performances he walked into daily- hourly- _all_ times.

Then one Day, the Harrier had enough of it.

It wasn't a memorable occasion like you would remember every single detail and vividly know every texture and every shade from your surroundings… The Harrier saw a murder, did a sloppy Processing on the victim's Soul (as he wasn't used to doing it himself), then went after that man and Processed his Soul as well once the deed was done. Then he found himself observing more and more of similar strings of crimes, actively watching out for any of the signs and trying to wedge himself into the scenes to prematurely stop them before the 'true' ending came to be.

All he felt was anger… anger that he was oblivious to these scenes and anger that no one else was stopping them. He did what he had the first time and received another visit from the posh bastard, which soon kicked everything into motion. How he's been running his existence as of now, even when he tweaked his play to let Andy take on her role in this as well…

Doing what he's been doing… wasn't addictive or exciting… There were too many wrongdoers being left alone, not atoning for their sins, getting away with crimes that leave suffering in their wake and they were expected to ignore this!? They shouldn't do anything because the tortured- the victims- would only become the vultures' next stringy _meals_!? That the posh bastard didn't see they could be doing something this worthwhile by taking care of Shibuya instead of taking care of the Underground!?

The posh bastard would never understand… _never_ understand what the Harrier was trying to do... Even if the Harrier never understood it himself right away, it was as if a primal instinct woke up inside him the moment he finished with the scumbag.

The need to protect those who were to-be victims…

Victims like… victims like...

Warmth filled him, making him relax and lean towards it... It felt _so_ good... _so_ much-

Without warning, he lunged forward, pulling back and hugging the warmth as energy unlike anything he felt before gushed through his system. He felt his lips curl up as he grinned joyfully as he took it all in, feeling his eyes well up as he laughed and closed his eyes, feeling a fuzziness almost turn him lax as he huddled on the floor over-

Almost at once, his eyes shot open to see the posh bastard watching him with a pleased expression. The energy- warmth from seconds ago- made him feel as if he just swallowed a mouthful of ash... suddenly collapsing forward with a grunt at the sound of a pop. He abruptly pulled himself up frenziedly, aware of how much more awake he was than he believed he's been in the last- since he became a Reaper, actually. Then- th-then that would only mean-

He whipped his head around in terror before his eyes settled on the hands of the posh bastard in horror.

The pale-suited man's hands were empty.

"NO!" The Harrier screwed his face up as his heart tightened and grew frigid, glaring as hard as he could as he snarled, "I didn't _want_ them!" Before he knew what was happening, his hand had somehow lunged for the posh bastard's cane and was now holding it in front of himself as he roared lividly, "I didn't _want_ them- Get the fuck _away_ from me, you _sick_, _fucking_ BASTARD!"

Consciously, he was aware of how he was about to swing the cane at the man- whose gaze went wide- before he was aware he was forced to the ground and held down by another Reaper. He tousled with the other Reaper as he spitted the man's way, cursing and cursing as he watched the posh bastard staring back unamused-

The Harrier was aware of how he was screaming gutturally in rage even when everything was silent- even when the posh bastard emotionlessly zapped away the Harrier's Pins before-

Waking up in his bunk at the Barracks, with a Harrier Reaper explaining to him that he wasn't to leave the room until further notice…

* * *

The Harrier sighed, feeling every fiber of his body seize as he sat rigidly on his bed. He kept his bored gaze on the Reaper occupying the bed across from him, warily regarding the fact the Reaper hadn't done anything but yawn while observing the Harrier without a single break. Were his guards trained so well that they could hardly do anything but exhibit how boring they were?

Silent and obedient… exactly what the Harrier could imagine the Conductor would want him to conform to…

At least, the Harrier reminded himself, he had the comfort of having the bunk that was closest to the exit of the room. He could easily peek over and take a glimpse of the hallway anytime he wished, light glinting back at him softly and giving him the reassurance of the time of Day and the fact that it wouldn't be going anywhere for now.

Usually, him and Andy got back to the Barracks before the masses returned for sleep. Those who were late would arrive sometime before two AM… then the lights would be snuffed out. Originally, the Harrier had opted for a bunk in the farthest corner and away from most of the vultures, vying for privacy and not trusting these strangers in a world he was still learning to adapt and get used to. His reasoning was that until he was ready, he would try to maintain some distance to scout out those he could rely on and those he should avoid at any costs… which he regretted immensely when he found himself panicking all night long during the first three nights.

Luckily, he had no resistance when he slipped into the bunk that happened to be free and close to the entrance, finding that most Reapers wouldn't bother to station themselves in the location that was the noisiest and brightest. While he could attest to disliking the former aspect of this position, he thrived on the latter when it came to the later times of night. With no Reapers flocking him, a comfort to ease himself into having a couple Number Threes during the Week and the fact that he was generally reminded he wasn't under the hood of that damn Cherry… it calmed his nerves to some degree. He could live with the constant rustle and shuffle of Reapers rousing for their shitty Days; it was enough to ground himself until he could sprint outside at daybreak.

However, with the fact that he had no choice but to remain in his bunk to watch Reapers come and go throughout the Day, secretly watching as a new Reaper replaced the old one who had been keeping him company... the Harrier found himself fighting the urge to tear his hair out from knowing the fact he was stuck here under the command of that sick, posh bastard.

He gritted his teeth, unsteadily breathing in and out as he tried to slow his intake of air. He heard most people needed plenty of carbon dioxide to send calming chemicals through their body, so deep breathing was their go-to strategy to relax themselves. The Harrier wished it was working for him, as he found himself feeling the urge to scratch his forearms to at least remind himself he was still in control... No; as much as he yearned the thought of that, he knew with his… let's call them his handlers… he would only warrant himself another visit with the Conductor to discuss why he was hurting himself. He didn't think the Conductor would care if the Harrier freaked out about being pinned to a location like a stupid butterfly on display, but he knew, deep inside, vultures may care for some reason.

The Harrier exhaled sharply, cooly taking to staring at the current Reaper who was content on copying what the last Reaper was doing. This is exactly how he pictured entering the radar of the Conductor would be like… losing the freedom he gained when he refused to go back to that woman. He was too careless to realize pulling a stunt like that in front of thousands of vultures holding some who cared- and _definitely_ some who he managed to tick off- may tug out the ones who dragged him out into the open. ...That was the last thing he wanted to have happened.

Staging a scene required apt precision and attention to details for any mistakes that may pop up during the enactment… yet he all but failed to heed the fact that causing a commotion as he had would net in the wrong perception and wrong members of the crowd. If he were to redo that moment, he knew he should have at least tried harder to direct himself away from the Lounge. Maybe begging to rest would have been extreme and untasteful for his standards, but it would have been enough to save himself from the humiliation of having the Conductor heed the Harrier's presence… to have now trapped the Harrier successfully as the man had upon provoking the Harrier enough into attacking the Conductor rashly when he should have smothered the urge down.

...Fuck that posh bastard.

Humming under his breath, the Harrier humoured the thought of walking out with a chance to recover his missteps and plan for the next act of his little performance. Maybe he could have given everyone an intermission that could have better prepared himself for the noon's misfortunate chance meeting of Sadist Saiyama… The Harrier coldly regarded the fact that he should have been more careful than to spill the beans to Saiyama about what he wanted to prove to the Conductor and perhaps even the Composer. Now? Well, now he had gotten a few Reapers down for 'yea' to his cause… despite having it come out differently and ridiculously than he had sought for.

In the corner of his eye, Reapers flocked into the room, grumbling and growling to each other yet he paid them little mind after they left his peripheral. It didn't matter to him if their Day was shitty, he reminded himself as he took to staring back at the vulture guarding him, he couldn't give a rat's ass even if the Conductor paid him to. Even after what happened a few hours ago with losing his temper, the Harrier couldn't escape the fact he fucked everything up in that one moment he should have held himself back.

It wasn't his fault the posh bastard was pushing his buttons- pushing and pushing against the Harrier who just wanted to be left alone and waste away instead of being forced to take the Points. It was staged in a way that the Harrier knew he wouldn't be seen in a positive light, knowing those who adored the posh bastard for no damn reason would only glare daggers at the Reaper attempting to end their 'wonderful' Conductor's existence because he was 'going insane from not having enough Reaper Points to keep him sound-minded'! It had to have been a trap laid out beforehand- the Harrier could picture what must have occurred for things to turn out as rottenly as it did for the Harrier's end.

Sadist Saiyama left the room for some reason… probably to go alert a new Reaper to occupy the room with the Conductor… And when said lucky Reaper arrived... they acted fast to 'save the Conductor's existence' from the wingless syncopator from earlier that Day! This wasn't going to be a hush-hush situation, oh no… no, no, no- this was going to be public knowledge to poke and prod and revel in and tarnish the wingless Harrier's good standing among them! Not that the Harrier cared about what the vultures thought of him, but how would the ones who signed the petition react to such knowledge!?

The Harrier felt almost numb at the thought, immediately frowning as he released a shuddery breath. He pretended it hadn't even happened as the other yellow-hooded Harrier gave him an once-over before saying nothing in response.

This was bad… this was _very_ bad! Forget what he said about not caring about what the vultures thought- this was serious! The Harrier hadn't thought about this before, but if he wanted his cause to be heard and supported, he had to maintain his credibility... or it would be over.

The black-hooded Reaper soon found himself quivering on his rickety bed, feeling warmth well at the sides of his eyes as he faintly felt like everything was disappearing around him… The Harrier could almost forget he had company as thoughts rushed in and swamped him as anxiety pulled over and took control- fighting against it as he tried to center himself yet it wouldn't stop- trying to breathe and trying to cast them off in hopes to free himself from the torment wracking through his brain and even his body- numbing him with blood roaring through his ears- wanting to throw up as if that would make everything happening to him right now vanish and leave him calmer than he once was a minute ago-

He could almost smell smoke again- taste it as it kept enveloping his torso and shrouding his face with pungent fumes that were killing his lungs faster than the lack of oxygen and the burning- white pain that captured whatever didn't reach his lungs- leaving him sinking and floating at the same time as laughter was the only thing he could hear over his ringing ears as he the darkness closed in on him…

...Why… why did he have to end up like this? End up in a place that served to torture him further and condemn him for trying to make a mark on others' lives for the good?

He didn't ask for this... not for the lectures, or the hassle, or the oppositions of what he believed in… Especially to still be around… to exist as he did now.

What did it matter anyway… if he were to exist to sit through this... when he didn't even have a choice to begin with…?

To have stayed dead…

Something felt like it was lifting his chin; he wordlessly let it happen even as touches met his back and the burning of a gaze was meeting his own… Nothing was there; something was squeezing him; the tight energy threatening to crush him ebbed away…

Blinking, he started as he realized even more Reapers than before were settling themselves into their beds. He soon felt sensations and footfalls from outside, reminding him he was still sitting on his bed.

He recollected himself, ignoring the fact that it may be close to lights out in lieu for the dread starting to trickle in, looming ready to clutch his heart the moment he would be cast into darkness. The Harrier could almost forget he was unaware of everything moments ago when the anxiety overtook him, simply retracing his thoughts on what he was thinking about before the panic set in.

Back to the matter at hand… the Harrier was stuck here until the Conductor deemed him worthy of having his freedom back. It left the taste of bile in his mouth at the idea that the Conductor could be placing all his bids on using this as his plan to make the Harrier succumb to giving up and seeing the 'errors of his ways'. Chuckling to himself, shaking his head, he imagined shitting on that man's parade that making the Harrier sit still wasn't going to cut it.

Even if the posh bastard got the momentary vantage, the Harrier knew he wouldn't let this get him down. Sitting here to stew about it was the only thing he could do, but that didn't mean he couldn't plan for when he was set free. After all, in order to get ahead, one must plan ahead… even if his hands were essentially tied right now.

The posh bastard can believe he won all he wanted; the Harrier would use that as a smokescreen. It was all about the subset of steps in scenes that made the final picture wholesome and masterful, whether it be what colour the backdrop sky should be, or if you wanted the lead actress' dress to be flowy or plump, or for her to be played by a young woman or a middle-aged lady… Details always mattered, sure… but the true importance was of the execution in the face of missteps such as his own.

What could you do if the lead actor got sick or injured… you get the understudy to step into the shoes left behind. What could you do if technical difficulties ceased all of the staff's work… you fix it and proceed, even if you're no longer on schedule. You don't get to give up and ask for someone to magically smear away the misfortunes that came your way… you work up from it and bear through the stumbles and trips you know are bound to happen. And for the Harrier's case… he'll bend this to his favour. After all, Andy has told him this enough times he could use it to joke on himself: He thinks too much. Thus, as is her words, he will think as much as he could with the time he now had. ...Even if the conditions were unsuitable for his standards. But hey, you don't always get to pick the straw that's not always the shortest, right? It only matters what you do in the meantime.

But… just for now, maybe he should give it a rest.

As more and more Reapers trickled in, he decided he should try to get some shuteye for that seldom, but much desired, potential Number Four. The Harrier wasn't finding the session he was having to watch his handler to be fun, knowing if he could get some sleep in, he could get more better-quality musing time in for later. Even though he knew it was more than likely he wouldn't sleep, the tiny candle light of hope sitting in the bottom of his stomach told him it was worth a shot.

He hoisted his body to flop onto his bunk, stifling the retort on his tongue about the plank-hard mattress trying to break his bones by pointing his back to his handler instead.

Another Day, another time to bide his time...

* * *

"Can't say I blame you, having to babysit me…" the Harrier quietly said to his silent handler, toying with the fact he knew he wasn't going to get a response despite giving conversation a shot. He slowly stretched, groaning out contently and felt the sting of the phantom limbs- he could have sworn fanned out behind him- as he held his position. "Just know that I didn't mean for you to be stuck here, my friend."

As he expected, the Reaper kept their mustard-yellow hood forward; directly facing him despite not responding back.

It was funny, that the Conductor wanted a Harrier to do a Support's work… The Harrier lackadaisically fixed his black hood as he pondered this. Perhaps he was taking the capabilities of the Conductor for granted, as having a Harrier to keep him company could only mean the Harrier himself was expected to waltz out of the River by the Conductor. Maybe the Conductor did give the Harrier credit? The Harrier knew if he had a Support watching him, he would have done the deed... if he hadn't seriously considered the Conductor's threat.

However, that wasn't what his concurrent plan entailed. He had to suck it up and wait like a 'good boy' for now...

He crossed his arms, smacking his lips as he sighed, "Whatever he did to convince you to waste your time today, don't know for certain it's worth it." Hearing the sound of his own voice calmed the Harrier slightly, from how it didn't give away the fact he was tense about being here for this long. From how long? The Days kind of blurred to him... but could you blame him when it was so easy to sit still but so hard to count the seconds wasting away?

Even if he tried to talk his way out of his predicament, where would he go to escape the Conductor now? He was trapped in the radar until the Conductor was satisfied the Harrier wasn't going to 'act out' again and would heed his words. This was the last thing he wanted, dammit! What else could he do? Talking at least gave him freedom of speech, which made him content he wasn't going to be muzzled until he was free to walk out… Planning on the side would net in his agency for what to do once that-

Suddenly, a Support walked into the Harrier's view, disrupting the tranquility of getting used to his current handler. The red-hooded Reaper leaned close to the other Harrier, confirming his suspicions as the Reaper on the bunk moved to stand. He couldn't help but give a nod to his previous handler, yet he was a bit annoyed he had to work from scratch again with his new one (despite the lack of progress he had with the former).

Sure, no one wanted to talk back to him, but trying to squeeze out information on the off-chance he could acquire more information for his future plans would be such a generous slab to help hold him out until the time came to put what he had come up with so far into effect. With the number of Reapers coming and going, it didn't look like he would get anywhere with this… However, the Harrier strongly felt he had to try. Thus, that meant working from the ground up again with new guy here.

When his previous handler disappeared around the corner of the entryway, he finally twisted his head back to the new vulture and quietly took to studying them.

The Harrier guessed the Conductor must have run out of available Harriers to guard him with. He regarded how this Reaper wasn't stock still or at attention, probably just as thrilled as the Harrier was to spend some precious quality time together. Or... maybe they were addlepated or chill about the dilemma they were chosen to take on? ...It didn't matter. This Support, through their lack of consideration of their body language, told the Harrier enough there was nothing to be worried about. Even so, the Harrier couldn't help the wariness curling around his stomach, vigilantly considering that this Reaper could very well be faking his stance to coax the Harrier into false security.

At that, the Harrier felt his body lock up, mentally sneering at this conspicuous Reaper's flawed venture as said Reaper shifted where he sat. Suddenly, the Harrier watched as the Support slid a hand under the bottom of his hoodie, casting a glance away while something shifted under the fabric. Huh, the Harrier was sort of impressed that he hadn't noticed an object was hidden against the Support's chest and clothing because of how careful this Reaper had been. That may have explained the slack body posture as it would give the now revealed whiteboard enough room to remain flat and not poke against the fabric to be noticed when the Support was sitting down. The Harrier could guess the Support knew what they were getting into so they brought along something to pass the time, which was fair enough considering how the Harrier was certain his handlers were taking on long intervals to make sure he stayed put.

However… if the Support wanted to do something to ward off boredom, why was he smuggling in the whiteboard? Hmm... that definitely, immediately contradicted the Harrier's earlier assumption. There was no need to hide the fact the Support wanted to draw for the shit and giggles…

...What were they up to?

The Support popped off a marker and put the lid on the end before they started to scribble on their weapon of choice against boredom. From time to time, they slightly looked at him in a way that the Support thought the Harrier wasn't noticing… which wasn't the case, sorry pal. The Harrier's trained eye could spot the subtlety from a mile away. Of course, this meant the Support was still paying attention to him, which was fair enough considering the Harrier hypothetically could sneak away if he wanted to with the new inattentiveness the Support would adopt while juggling his entertainment. But the aforementioned method of bringing in said entertainment screamed out the Harrier's suspicion, prompting him to narrow his eyes at this Reaper upon musing this.

Soon, the Support looked up without another glance at their whiteboard. Their red hood was facing the Harrier, in a way that would suggest they were staring at him, while they placed the marker aside and used the same hand to slowly hover a finger in front of their shadowed face. The Harrier narrowed his eyes, silently surveying their vicinity before deeming it safe to nod slightly. He appreciated the fact that this Support wasn't stupid enough to think no person was watching their exchange even when there was 'no need to'. ...They still were sloppy about the way they decided to bring in the whiteboard, though. A tactless attempt, mind you, but they appeared to be different than his earlier handlers.

Okay, he'll bite and see what's this Support's deal was.

He sat up taller, trying to mimic the Support's slight ease in their posture. Mirroring was an excellent tactic to deliver to give off the subconscious message that, yes, you were interested in what the other person has to say. It was an underestimated social cue many people didn't realize was a key component in maintaining a good conversation with another person or getting them to be amenable.

The Support turned their whiteboard around, slightly hunching over it to guard it from their unseen spectators. As the Support waited on him, the Harrier simply took one glance to read the neatly-inked English.

**Conductor trapped you here?**

Ah… clearly this _wasn't_ one of the posh bastard's own. Good to know, good to know…

He smiled coolly, yet twitched slightly after the whiteboard was wiped off and the marker and smudged-slate was offered upside down to him. With a quick scan around them, he soon accepted the items before staring down at the blank surface and contemplated what he should say.

The now partly-grey surface would disguise the previous presence of marker, and with even more over time, should make it impossible to interpret anything that had been written down. Once again, he found himself impressed with this Support. He squared his upper-torso over the greyboard when he slowly but neatly wrote back.

**Must have pissed him off again.**

As soon as the Support reached for it back, a snort was expelled out before they managed to contain it. Their shoulders bounced as they silently and awkwardly wiped the greyboard off before scribbling something else, soon returning it to the Harrier.

**Not afraid of our boss, eh? Makes sense if you could piss that one off, heh.**

Involuntarily, the Harrier felt the sides of his lips curl upwards more, starting to brush off the marker. After that was done, he drew the marker across the greyboard again with ease but a bit more sharper and harsher than earlier.

**That man is a POSH BASTARD. He's not dignified, elegant or eloquent as he thinks he is. Why should we respect a HOITY ASS like him?**

When he passed back the greyboard this time, he leaned back with a grinning smirk while waiting for the Support's response. The Support looked up and gazed at him for a while, soon pushing themselves off to stand and quickly sat down beside the Harrier. Without a word, they balanced the greyboard to rest on the Harrier's and Support's nearby legs and began writing another response.

**You got a point there, mate. I'm straight-up relieved you believe that because that man pretty much acts like someone pulled that cane FROM his ass. A sad guy, really. Stink fulla and a fancy guy, really.**

As the marker was returned to the Harrier, he blinked as the Support cleared the greyboard. The words the Support used were unfamiliar to him, most likely foreign jargon for something that the Harrier knew he wouldn't be able to decipher. Although, he decided to pretend they were some form of insults and started stroking the dry-erase brush across the greyboard again.

**And yet he acts like we need his godsent guidance to 'live' in this Plane… Wouldn't hurt for him to go away for a Day and give us back our damn peace from him.**

The Support nodded.

**Here, here… (Hard out)... I don't know what you did to piss him off twice, right?, but you are all good in my book if you can get off the Recruiting without a hitch.**

At once, the Harrier snapped backwards, warily eyeing the Support before they wiped off the board before writing again.

**Sorry about that. It's Jimmy.**

The Harrier blinked and nodded slowly, sighing in relief before he wrote on the greyboard.

**Good to know who you are now… I thought you were one of my handlers for my standby. I have to say, using this was a sound plan, Calristein-san.**

**Just call me Jimmy. Like I said, you're all good in my book, you hear?**

**Loud and clearly.**

**Choice. When I found out your mate had one, I thought it may be a churr idea to borrow it so we wouldn't get overheard.**

**Which is why I said was a sound plan. It's so simple to erase what you have so you can put something else on it, when you have the right eraser, mind you. But since we don't have that type of eraser, I'm sure we've smudged this slate enough that no person could tell what we're saying from afar. I'm glad Andy kept it.**

**Eh? Did she try to toss it?**

**Why throw it away when you don't need to? I don't get why people feel the need to throw perfectly good items away when they could either use it, store it away, give it to someone they know, or even donate it to someone less fortunate. I mean, would you actually throw away a book when you're tired of reading it?**

**Not even. Books last until they decay or are munted.**

**EXACTLY. I used the same argument with Andy so she wouldn't do it.**

**Why did she want to toss it?**

**Well, it's because she thought lugging it along wasn't worth it when she doesn't have to walk around to ask if someone speaks English anymore.**

**Ah… got it. Originally she thought giving me your notebook would work, but when I mentioned we needed something discrete, she brought this over for me to use.**

The Harrier looked up after he was finished reading Jimmy's latest message, frowning before he wrote carefully back.

**I haven't had a chance to speak with her since I left her alone yesterday and got dragged off to the Conductor by Sadist Saiyama. How is she? Is she mad? Is she doing okay? I didn't exactly run off and give her a good send off message…**

The Harrier's stomach churned as she waited for the Support to read his entry, and soon, Jimmy looked at him and sighed. The Support took a while to clear off the marker before starting to write over the muck they created during the last few minutes; tapping the marker against it once he was finished.

**Okay, I'll be straight-up here. Your mate wasn't doing so well. Do you two usually hang out or something?**

The Harrier swallowed nervously before he wrote back.

**Ever since I started giving her Japanese lessons five Weeks ago, we've been doing stuff every Day, I guess?**

Jimmy nodded at that before replying.

**Okay then. I reckon I can describe it as looking lost and confused, 'cause she hovered outside the door today until I brought her over to the debriefing. Not saying I did it because I had met her, but I can't help but remember you two often are chasing Players together, so I thought of it as suss she wasn't with you. **Jimmy erased the message before he wrote on, **I mean, my mates passed by you yesterday and didn't think much of it, then I thought it was you this morning when I heard them say a Reaper apparently was to crash here and you fit the bill.**

The Harrier felt a wave of remorse go through him, knowing that he pretty much ditched Andy. It made it even worse that he didn't try to get someone to tell her he was alright sooner to prove a point against the Conductor. He immediately put a hand on his face, groaning to himself before he wiped off the marker slowly before lightly touched his finger to the greyboard.

As Jimmy silently started his next message, the Harrier removed his hand to wait patiently for the Support to be done before reading it.

**I didn't know why you weren't allowed out, but I promised your mate I would check up on you. I figured that Reaper was watching you or something so I thought it may be sweet as to see if I could do a choice switcheroo to geez what's up with you.**

The Harrier finally decided to reply back, feeling nervous as he did so.

**Please tell her I didn't mean to run off on her. I wasn't planning on getting forced to be on standby and I can't even leave the room without being reported upon by one of my handlers. I honestly HATE this shit.**

Jimmy didn't immediately write back after that, pausing for a long time before he began to write.

**I guess I have only so much borrowed time with you, nah, yeah? Do you want me to pass along anything else?**

Oh shit- Jimmy had a point! From the amount of time each Reaper guarded him, many had come and gone quickly today. The Harrier tried to crunch the numbers as best as he could before determining they probably didn't have much time left before the next swap occurred. They couldn't have a leisure time for messages with pointless information or jokes anymore, so the Harrier knew if he were to pass along a message, it had to be something noteworthy and written promptly.

But what did he want to say? The Harrier struggled with his decisions before he blinked in realization. He couldn't do anything right now, but that didn't mean nothing could get done for what him and Andy wanted. If they stopped now, the vultures would probably pass the Harrier's yelling and near attack of the Conductor off as an one-note event and soon forget about what happened. Or, if he were to be frank, lose interest in learning why the Harrier had done that.

It wasn't about the falsely perceived events, it was about how the Harrier couldn't believe the posh bastard made him eat innocent Souls when he advertised previously he was all about the ones that committed crimes. The Harrier didn't care about the notion they were Erased because they couldn't defeat the Gamemaster, or whatever the fuck got the Pact and Gamemaster Erased... they didn't _deserve_ to be consumed by him! The posh bastard degraded him the moment the Souls were brandished! It wasn't right to absorb them- it was nothing but _violating_!

Imagine what would happen if the Reapers who signed the petition caught wind of miscommunicated information that the Harrier accepted innocent Souls to save his own skin... It would ruin everything! It would make him appear as... an unreliable asshole. An unreliable _asshole_ who got them hopeful for nothing because he may be viewed as nothing more than another mutt the Conductor had the collar of under his thumb. That everything was a ruse and the Harrier was lying to them... just for the sick entertainment of zapping away their faith that they could be saving Shibuya from wrongdoers with his sleazy stunt! The moment everything phased out without any updates and nothing happening to payoff their support, they would assume he failed in his promise to them.

And he couldn't let that happen.

That said, he had to get shit down right away and not leave Jimmy to staring at him until the next handler arrived. He dragged his attention back to thinking about what to tell the Support, feeling the pressure from the knowledge he got distracted by that awful event as he fumbled with his ideas. Before he got sidetracked, he was thinking about what to instruct Jimmy to say to Andy, so he knew he would have to walk the lanky Reaper through it before sending him off with the message. Even if it wasn't what the Harrier was planning to do to convey his cause as carefully as he may have liked, he had to act now to make sure they could echo the news around Shibuya.

With enough time of spreading it the best they could to any vulture that wasn't the posh bastard or his nobles, the Harrier could only hope it could get Reapers talking and for them to maybe even advocate it to their peers. So as long as the message wasn't flipped around or misrepresented, there was still a chance to keep the ball rolling as long as they could until he was released from the Barracks to pick up where he left off. It was the only way to savage the cause.

He hastily wiped the marker away and scribbled as swiftly as he could.

**We cannot afford to waste time. I will try to make this quick, so please bear with me.**

Jimmy nodded twice before the Harrier fluently erased the message and wrote more.

**I will write down a single message on the whiteboard, you will copy that message onto your arm and try to memorize it as soon as you can. Tell Andy this message when you see her then only erase the message when Andy has memorized it or if you can remember it well enough to not need a reminder.**

The Harrier doubted the Support would forget, but this would only drive home the significance that Jimmy had to make sure he didn't. He felt that sometimes when you stress the importance of something with an air of urgency, it pretty much would lend itself to ensuring it would resonate rather than ebb away. Why did he think that? Well, how else did he do better than his classmates on their exams? He didn't want to disappoint that woman's expectations or his father's efforts of dressing him up for success... and _that_ was vital in his own right.

Jimmy whipped his head up and stared for a while, probably nervous, the Harrier assumed, as he wiped the board clean before pausing. The Harrier knew he couldn't be as thorough as he liked, so he had to be as concise as he could. Well, you could only have so much room on your arm to write, but with what the Harrier was planning... the less known would be easier to stomach until he was present to explain the rest.

He rolled around a few ideas in his head before settling on something, yet before he began to write, he momentarily rolled the words around again. The Harrier tried to figure out if he had them right before he started to write quickly.

**El reclutamiento de jugadores es solo para los infractores en el Realground.**

The Harrier wasn't surprised when Jimmy hesitated after raising his head to stare the Harrier again. Without hesitation, the Harrier proceeded to lean over to the Support Reaper to whisper, "Player Recruitment is only for wrongdoers from the Realground. That's what it says. Just write the message down... but remember the meaning as best you can." He narrowed his eyes, continuing with more intensity, "We _need_ to keep informing Reapers about our cause."

Jimmy didn't do anything, frozen as he stared at the Harrier which caused the Harrier's heart to seize. Jimmy wouldn't get the message copied over in time if he gawked for much longer.

"Trust me!" the Harrier hissed as he scowled at the other Reaper. He suddenly realized a Reaper was walking through the hallway, turning in their direction. "Hurry!" he added in irritation, feeling himself start to hyperventilate. "Someone's coming!"

After a few seconds, Jimmy took the marker and slid his sleeve down, staring down at his pale-skinned arm briefly before writing on the inner portion of its length as footsteps sounded close by. The Harrier started to glance at the entryway, feeling his heart thud hard at the thought a vulture was going to discover him and the Reaper he'd spoken to two Days ago was conversing for some reason when Jimmy yanked his sleeve up his arm and started to rub his other sleeve across the surface shakily. ...Hopefully no one bothered to be interested in why a Support Reaper had black smears on their zipperless uniform.

The Harrier watched the other man slip the greyboard under his scarlet hoodie when a Harrier joined them, Jimmy nodding to them shakily before pulling himself up to his feet. As the Harrier's new handler took a seat on the bunk across from his, Jimmy was walking away slowly without looking back.

He wasn't sure if Jimmy was confident about what the Harrier told him to do, but the Harrier desperately hoped this could work. Jimmy had a good memory, the Harrier reminded himself, so that wasn't the issue… If it had been, he would have written it in English. Even so, English wasn't a seldom used language… so with the time he had, the Harrier could only focus on the fact that one Reaper he knew understood the fuck he made Jimmy write on himself.

Well, whatever the fuck the Harrier could remember to make Jimmy write down, that is.

* * *

With nothing noteworthy to do than talk to himself mentally, catching snippets of conversations once and awhile from vultures relaxing in the Barracks, the Harrier was surprised when he found himself overhearing a tail-end of a complainer as their voice loudly echoed through the shared room.

"What the fuck is wrong with Sadist Saiyama!?"

Having been minding his own business up to now, the Harrier felt as if he inhaled a breath of fresh air upon hearing that old man's nickname. As much as he hated that was the first thing to lighten his mood in three Days since he'd spoken with Jimmy, he couldn't help but continue to strain his ears for more.

"I don't know... isn't he already a nutjob?"

The first Reaper scoffed, "Stay away from him then! He's been such a maniac lately that I _nearly_ got bulldozed by him passing by me this morning, only for him to get on my case for some shit he's got on _his_ plate!"

Interesting… The Harrier couldn't help but lend his full attention to this odd yet somewhat relatable topic.

"How can we when he bunks with us?" asked the second Reaper anxiously in return.

"Oh _fuck_ _no_\- he _sleeps_ here!? I can't imagine that fucker actually sleeps here-"

The Harrier then realized the conversation must have ended prematurely as he heard stomps close by; a familiar growl followed after they ceased, "I'm taking over."

Immediately, the Harrier blinked in shock before scrambling more onto his bunk to bristle and watched as Sadist Saiyama brushed aside his current handler. Anger curled up inside his heart as he glowered at the behemoth, who sank down the bunk when seating himself on it... And, with a quick survey of the area, he could tell the grousing Reapers from before were petrified, probably forgetting about the fact to breathe as they remained frozen in place.

Reminding himself of who was glaring him down, the Harrier soon flickered his narrowed eyes back to the burly old man. "What is it _now_?" asked the Harrier tartly while crossing his arms, catching how the much larger Reaper was now leering back at him coldly. Well then, it seemed Sadist Saiyama finally got the message of how the Harrier felt about their _lovely_ friendship. "The posh bastard's going to make you gut me because I've been too quiet?" he sneered coolly, laughing dryly as he went on, "I haven't been social enough, so I now have to subjugate myself to nursing your damn presence?"

Sadist Saiyama didn't respond, only throwing his head around to glower at the only other Reapers in the room instead. "_Get out_!" the brute bellowed with sheer animosity, causing the Harrier to flinch at the tone before trying to compose himself as the grousers tripped and tried to escape the room in panic at the simple demand. If the Harrier hadn't met this old man earlier, he would have walked out and wondered if senile Reapers should be active. But as that wasn't the case, the Harrier darkly regarded the fact that Sadist Saiyama had beef with him and he absolutely hated that this old man didn't know when to quit.

As the army man finally paid attention to the Harrier again, his expression changed somehow. The Harrier couldn't properly read what it was, but he knew for damn sure it didn't mean good for him. The older Reaper huffed out a sigh that lasted for a while, shaking his head before he finally spoke in his normal deep, gritty voice, "Have you fainted since the last time I saw you?"

The Harrier blinked, warily watching the man as he frowned hard and his eyes sharply tried to find anything to denote what the sadist was playing at. He simply looked away when he couldn't figure out what was going on, deciding to wait and see if any of the man's intentions would bleed out at some point. "None."

For whatever reason, the grimness in the man's expression lessened. "Dizziness?"

The Harrier exhaled at that, narrowing his eyes to slits. "Nothing."

"Nausea?"

"Last I heard, you had been an army man," sneered the Harrier with an eyeroll. "_Not_ a medic."

The man's voice sounded like he ate more gravel in the time he listened to the Harrier's response. "_Nausea_?"

So they still thought the Harrier was sick… great. Might as well get this sadist off his back so he could sulk some more.

Sighing, the Harrier peered back at the man and flatly regarded him. "Nada."

"Insomnia?"

The Harrier blinked, closing his eyes as he huffed, "I get _plenty_ of sleep- thank you very much."

Instantly, Sadist Saiyama's face warped from the additional grimness secreting from it. "Then why haven't you slept for the last _three_ Days?"

Huffing at that, the Harrier pretended the man hadn't spoken. He simply pulled his legs up, crossing them as he sat on the brick-hard mattress and fixed his shoelaces. As he did so, he could tell it wasn't an ideal choice as the sadist was growling and grumbling about something without the man's murky gaze leaving the Harrier.

What was the big deal of not getting sleep? He could hardly think straight, yeah… but that wasn't going to be a problem until he was released from this room. No, scratch that- _if_ he was released from this room. By now, having spent so long in the Barracks made the Harrier almost believe the posh bastard was pretending he was going to let the Harrier go. Even so, the posh bastard would probably get a real good kick out of it if he could make the Harrier stay in one place forever, feeding him Points every so often like a koi in its aquatic, domey prison... Eight chances out of ten deemed that to be true, but the Harrier wouldn't let himself become degraded by such a hapless cruelty placed onto him.

_Especially_ after the shit the posh bastard pulled to land him here! Just thinking about how he enjoyed those innocent Souls made the Harrier sick to his stomach at the reminder that could be his future if he didn't get Recruiting accepted soon.

"Is that why you have been passing out?" prompted the man again but quieter, making the Harrier groan internally. It seemed that Sadist Saiyama was _going_ to be a stubborn shit about this... "Because you're sleep deprived? Or is it-"

The Harrier had enough. He didn't want the man poking into his business when everything was just fine without the Sadist's further analysis on the Harrier. He simply turned away again, refusing to look at the piece of shit.

A sigh came from the army man, "...Oshiro didn't put me up to this."

"_Hah_, like I'd believe that..." returned the Harrier in a scornful scoff of laughter, shaking his head while closing his eyes and smiling. "All you've done is make my existence hell right now- and I could care less about answering _your_ stupid survey."

"Why can't you take a moment to listen to us for once?" asked Saiyama in frustration, snorting audibly before he growled, "You're only here because you didn't listen to Oshiro. You _had_ a chance to talk to him- _now_ look at what happened to you!"

The Harrier smiled coldly. "For your information, Sadist Saiyama, why should I heed the words of any fool if they believe their words hold more power and sway than mine?" He chuckled, shaking his head before continuing, "Neither you nor the posh bastard can stay on the staddle I'm working with... because you are narrow-minded simpletons who only want to crush the Reapers who think differently than you two." He placed a hand over his heart, frowning now. "I, for one, don't see how locking away potential avenues can make Shibuya a better place. We only need to open the floodgates to see if they actually hold a threat..."

Straightaway, the army man snapped, "You _still_ don't get it!"

"Get _what_?" scoffed the Reaper loudly, feeling his face harden and hackles rise. "The fact that you're trying to _smother_ me by keeping me on watch like a captive- an animal- a _child_!?" He felt his face contort from uttering the last part of his sentence before he growled bitterly, "How in _your_ damn minds do you think holding me here will make me change _my_ damn mind!?"

"Only you would see yourself as a prisoner when you actually have the chance to smarten up unlike how it is in the Realground!" boomed the large Reaper in an enraged snarl, swinging down his arm to thwack it into the bunk below him.

"Smarten up!?" screeched the Harrier in fury and disdain. He abruptly stood to whip his body towards the terrible Reaper, glowering hard. "_Smarten up!_?" He threw up his hands and yelled harshly, "What is _wrong_ with you!? Trying to jam mind games down my throat to feed me hell for breakfast!?" He shook his head wildly. "There's _nothing_ wrong with what I do and you two _don't_ see it!"

Sadist Saiyama rose to face the Harrier, his face taut and twisted with disgust as he growled back, "Then who _are_ the wrongdoers!? You surely must have figured it out while Oshiro has given you time to recuperate!"

The Harrier held a strangled scream in his throat before he let it escape his lips, "I don't need _time_ to _recuperate_! I don't _need_ to answer your _stupid_ question!" He leered at the man as he yelled louder and rawer, smacking his palms against the sides of his hooded head as he felt his eyes burn, "I can't _take_ this anymore- Just let me out!"

His chest rose and fell shallowly as he kept his sharp gaze on the man, bristling as he shouted out wetly, "I don't want to _exist_ like this! _Not_ when fools like you _don't_ get it!"

As he shakily breathed, feeling his eyes well up, he suddenly felt smaller and smaller the longer the man before him didn't change his expression. He could hardly breathe as the larger man lumbered over, making the Harrier back away in response as he felt lightheaded suddenly, before the sadist frowned differently.

He wasn't sure what the old man was trying to display… Sadness, weariness, pity, frustration, uncertainty, acceptance? Whatever it was, the Harrier still backed away only to yelp when he lost his balance. He felt arms start to wrap around him, instantly causing him to scream out, "Don't you dare touch me, _sicko_!" He squirmed out of the half-baked hold to land roughly sideways on his bed, glaring darkly at the man who gazed back while retreating with a couple of steps.

The Harrier soon pushed himself to the metal headboard to put more distance between himself and the ex-army man. "Just leave me the fuck alone for good!" he continued as his voice rose to shrillness, feeling his words slur briefly and his face ache from the sheer intensity of his expression contorting harder. "I _hate_ you so damn much I wish no one Processed me to have met you! Actually dying would have been better than existing to deal with _this_ shit!"

He wetly gasped as he glared harder, challenging the man silently to make the Harrier's Day miserable when the man hmphed. The old man silently reached into one of his dirty trouser pockets, to draw out and place clinking metals down beside the Harrier- The Harrier immediately widened his eyes as the man stepped back again and watched him.

The sadist heaved out a weary breath as he flopped to sit back down on the opposing bunk; his murky-green eyes guarded as he soon grunted, "Whoever the damn Processed your Soul should have taken your advice…" He hunched forward and sneered, "Ever wonder if you're repaying them as you are now? Acting as if the world revolves around you when people could care less if you keel over and fade one Day from not taking care of yourself right?"

Keeping an eye on the Pins somewhat neatly piled together and the army man, the Harrier was taking notes on the man as a cold realization stretched out inside him: The same army man had just returned the Harrier's Pins to him... The Harrier couldn't help but grit his teeth.

Trembling as he pressed his back to the headboard harder, he fought the urge to scoop up his Pins in the company of this fool. He wasn't going to show his underbelly to this man now- not when the Harrier nearly lost himself in screaming about how he felt about his existence. Part of it, he sometimes thought about when he was cloaked in the darkness that got to him most nights... Sometimes, when his Day or Week was shitty… Sometimes, when he couldn't stop thinking about how he died...

At least, that's how it had been originally.

The first Week was the worst. He was barely hanging on to himself after struggling to acclimatize to the Underground as a Reaper, feeling nothing but vulnerable even when he had no reason to. He knew he should have felt relieved he was free from that woman… yet his thoughts were plagued by her and he couldn't help but keep returning to her home. It kept him awake at night, wondering why he couldn't forget about her and exist happily in a place she couldn't lecture him in. At least, as a 'ghost', she had no reason to lecture him as she had when he lived under her roof.

Week number two made itself known to tell him that his existence wasn't going to get better. He finally managed to take down a Pact on his own without his attempts going south halfway through the Week. What should have been triumph was guilt and nausea keeping him from trying to see that woman again… afraid she would lecture him about it. He visited her maybe once or twice before he Erased those Players. Perhaps it would have been for the best if he stopped seeing her... that had been one of his thoughts while lying awake a night before the last Day of that Week.

During the third Week, the sick comfort was ripped from him. He could hardly bring himself to think about it...

He shakily pressed his palms to his temples, tucking his head down as he tried to suck in air. He couldn't think straight with the ringing and buzzing in his ears that came on to him suddenly. The Harrier gagged, gasping anxiously as he gripped the sides of his hair while shuddering.

The thoughts that were slowly sinking into his mind only dispersed when footsteps alerted him. He was barely aware of how he could already relax from that stimuli, yet the boom of Sadist Saiyama's voice broke his brief reprieve, "What? Think we _poisoned_ them?"

Quickly, the Harrier tried to recollect himself, inhaling slowly to give himself the time to soothe himself and hide his stress from being more evident. When he felt he was okay, he folded his arms before he snorted, "Not my first assumption, but thank you for the donation." He very much wanted to scream at Sadist Saiyama, however, he knew he couldn't keep his energy up if he argued with the man too much in one sitting. Unhappy, unhappy bad, bad chemicals seemed to have a rap of sapping it, after all.

"I have to say, you're pretty cute to think I'd fall for this," he supplied smoothly instead.

Sadist Saiyama's face was hysterical from how it transformed rapidly into disbelief. "_What_!?"

Sighing, the Harrier pretended to seem uncaring as he studied the Pin pile, nudging one over only to cringe when a spark of familiar energy greeted him from his Cripplecheck Pin. It had dappling small rings of dark green, teal and off-white all along its jet black surface. When you adjusted it a certain way, the light would glint on it to reflect a metallic grey, as if the peculiar coating could disappear if it wanted to.

With another poke, said glint flickered across the Pin. **'...Dammit.'**

He could have sworn Sadist Saiyama was trying to pull wool over his eyes! If he couldn't do anything with feeling them, he could have very well kept his current charade strong to accuse the army man of trying to fool him. No matter, no matter… he worked with worse odds stacked against him.

Biting his lower lip's inside to save face, he feigned ignorance as he tipped over another Pin experimentally, inwardly cringing at another false positive. _Goddammit_\- what the fuck was this man playing at!? If this old man wanted to do that, the Harrier might as well do the same with the sadist!

He threw a dirty look to the man, trying to control his breathing to not give away the frustration he held for the sadist. He inhaled slowly before he spoke evenly, "Let's say... yes, these are my Pins." So far so good… maintaining the guise was the key. He tried to push his body into pliable ease as he hoped he appeared nonchalant to the man. It would be harder, though, considering he was just yelling at the man previously.

The Harrier pressed his hands together, tipping it towards the man as he went on, "You done me a solid, _great work_…" With a quick check on the old man, the Harrier had to crank it up a bit it seemed. He sighed, shaking his head while offering a small, insincere smile, "But how do I know if these _are_ my Pins?"

"Are you kidding me? I spent all Day yesterday trying to convince Oshiro to hand them over to me," grunted the sadist with an eye-roll, gesturing to him as the man went on to ask disgruntled, "What more could you want from me?"

The Harrier narrowed his eyes before he sneered slickly, "You could have very well vouched for me, but I hate your guts as much as you hate mine. So I'd think it would be pretty easy to make another house key if you have the original, or even a psudoriginal on hand to pop out another to toy around with." He settled himself down, trying to relax as he turned his head away. "For all I know, you may have tinkered with them to sabotage my efforts in some fashion the moment I turn my back and use them…" He hardened and narrowed his gaze. "The posh bastard may have done that and gotten you to be his little delivery boy today, buster."

"I don't know why you're yammering and bellyaching about this, but trust me, these _are_ the real deal!" replied the sadist contently with a reassuring, wolfish grin… if it wasn't so disturbing to look at. This man seemed so confident in his claim, yet the Harrier could only try to nitpick it for a venture to override the statement.

"Carbon copies can still function as well as the originals," pressed the Harrier as undeterred as he could, starting to feel control slip out from his hands as he tried to grapple for anything else to counter the man's assertion with. It was as if this man was deflecting the Harrier's ruse without even realizing the Harrier was trying to mess with him. "I don't think you understand that if I waltz out of here and see someone else using another of my own, I would very much like to give you a heads up on where you'll know I'll be the moment _I_ witness it!" he growled lowly to the other Harrier Reaper, clenching his hands into fists as his face tightened. "And _trust me_\- I'm not a happy cinnamon bun, _contrary_ to belief!"

"Look, those Pins are your Pins," growled the army man as his grin flipped upside-down to become disgruntled. He crossed his arms, sighing as he pointed at the Harrier with one of his crisscrossed hands, "I don't get what shit you're trying to pull… so know that you wouldn't be getting them from me if Oshiro had paid you a visit." He whisked his hand, snorting as he growled on, "Also, know that there's been many others before you that may have had Psyches like yours. It's not like fire is being discovered _every_ hour, or lightning bolts have only struck _one_ man…"

The Harrier frowned harder, pushing his mind to come up with anything to help him with a counter-argument as part of it kept trying to make sense of that statement. As much as the Harrier hated to admit it… something felt genuine about the way the old man spoke. The Harrier was expecting another explosive response, yet this time, Sadist Saiyama held his composure as well as a man with endless possibilities could.

Shifting slightly, his heartbeat had tapered a bit and his face relaxed enough for him to be aware of how it reflected his confusion… no. Rather than confusion, the Harrier didn't think he could come up with how he felt about the response. He could identify how the sound logic immediately established itself, wondering if it was worth fighting a downhill battle despite the urge to keep his front up. Returning his attention to the army man, the Harrier narrowed his eyes again and mulled over what he could say now. He spent too long hesitating and the silence may have already softened the tension in the air… yet, the Harrier couldn't help but seethe that the old man could bulldoze the Harrier's next response at any moment because there was wiggle room between them now.

Deciding to buy himself time, despite how he didn't want to cave in to the anxiety making itself present, he lightly poked more of his Pins. Upon receiving more familiar sensations tingling through his fingers at each touch he made, he blinked as he accepted the fact these very well may belong to him.

As much as he would say otherwise, his Pins' Psyches were simple regurgitations of previously known Psyches. He couldn't claim he was the only one to wield such Psychomancy when it frowned at him for clinging to that line of defence. He read from reports he had the clearance for reviewing that Pins were newer vessels for Psyches to reside in, as everyone had to resort to using Medallions until the change went through. The author of said reports seemed to denote that the Composer was still working on transferring the remaining Medallions' Psyches into Pins to be repurposed for newer Players, unless something noteworthy in the Player's Soul had the potential to manifest alternatives, which were found during the Processing process. The Harrier himself had the opportunity to check the people he Processed for any of those signs, and yet he hadn't had the honour of discovering them… pity.

From what the person who chose to Process his Soul said, from what he could barely piece back together, his Soul seemed to exhibit newer selections of Psyches into the DNA pool. Some had been different forms of older Psyches, but the fact that he knew he had some one-of-a-kind Pins in his arsenal had been confusing initially until he finally put them to good use during his Game Week. It was then he realized how special it was that he was the owner of these manifestations... that his Soul was innovative enough to create anew when all he had thought in his bland life he couldn't do anything noteworthy... Up to that point, he felt like a loser who was being forced to relive the same Day... but with his new abilities, he felt he could carve opportunities with his fingertips... break out of the mould... maybe even reestablish who he was...

Being told for the first time in his life- at death, that he could escape being himself for a Week... even if it was actually intended for him to fight for another chance at going back to his awful life... was uplifting. He never wanted to live again, but the idea that he was untouchable by the ones who led him to this state of existence... was the first time he felt relief and real comfort since his father died. He was certain he could have a way to live for himself, which was what he realized when the posh bastard was relaying the fact the Harrier was the only one chosen amongst all of the Players to be granted the chance to go back to the Realground.

On that Day 7, the last Day of his Game Week, he was beyond tired of being crammed into expectations and commitments that only chipped away at his sanity. The burning, fierce want... drove him to say in full-confidence he had not had for himself at all in his life...

_"I would accept this... only if it was worth my while. Make me one of your own, that's all I will ask. It's the only honour I would think would suit me, Sir, if I am to be frank, if I am to best put myself in the right place for me to be. I don't care about my life, only what I want to make of it... even if I will not be alive..."_

...If things had only stayed that way, that is.

The warmth gathering in his chest at the memories soon soured when he finished his recollection of his Game Week decision. He then reminded himself he had to focus on the sadist; not his Pins, not what he had done for himself... as the sadist would only think the discussion was won by him if the Harrier kept his mouth shut.

Sighing with a blustery exhale, the Harrier kept his gaze on the Pins, "...I don't know what you're trying to do. Getting on my good side with favours, or pretending to be nice to me…" He hardened his expression when he spat under his breath, "But don't think this changes anything!" He finally whipped his head up, glaring fiercely at the old man as he put in coldly, "You're still a fool, and I'm _not_ going to stop because of you!"

Straightaway, the army man frowned yet his eyes appeared thoughtful. "Of all the things I've seen from you, I just can't figure out how you came out like this."

The Harrier immediately gaped incredulously in a frown. 'Wh-What?"

"I just can't imagine how someone so young could be so misguided and chary when they're on the cusp of adulthood..." breathed the army man simply with a shrug. "Look, I took time to think over it-"

The Harrier folded his arms and coolly thought,** '...You actually **_**think**_** about stuff?'**

"- and it suddenly hit me that you're spiralling down like this because you have issues," Sadist Saiyama finished before blinking his murky eyes. "A _lot_ of issues."

The Harrier shook his head before he scoffed, "Oh great… I _have_ issues." He rolled his eyes as he mumbled, raising a finger in the air, "Tell me something more about what your mind happens to dwell on during the Day… We can even paint each other's nails and talk about the boys we like." He laced fake cheerfulness into his next delivery. "As a bonus, we'll be the bestest of friends come morning!"

At that, the army man harrumphed before he growled, "I'm going to level with you here, and I'm only going to say this once-" The man slowly rose up, his gaze hardening slightly as he stared down at the Harrier, who warily gazed back, then sighed, "Acting like you're bigger than everyone else is the worst mistake you're making when you've lost your wings. The longer you're going to ignore that fact, the more likely your Erasure will be."

The Harrier momentarily mulled over the words. Knowing that as much as he hated listening to hapless advice, the fact that Sadist Saiyama was directing the younger's attention to the sore thumb that's been on his mind occasionally mustn't be taken lightly.

Reaper wings were practically a Reaper's honour and were known to be the source of their powers. It surprised him when he found out that the appearance of Reapers should be heeded. That Reapers with larger wings happened to be twigs when it came to fights, and those with smaller ones had hidden, condensed strength lying within them. Reaper wings weren't the deciding factor if vultures could or could not use Arts, but the Harrier remembered their wings bolstered and augmented their strength and powers the longer they remained Reapers. Why the army man was bringing this up now, oh the Harrier could only ponder why it seemed important all of a sudden...

He crossed his arms, tucking his chin to his chest as he stared at his lap while he breathed, "Why should I care about losing my wings?" His face hardened before he went on in irritation, "I know I'm grounded, and that I won't get that special oomph I had before… so I'll bite." He felt his eyes sharpen as he leaned forward, sneering low and quietly, "Is losing my wings going to ensure I suffer steadily until I one Day keel over and fade away as you said? That the Conductor basically is killing me _unless_ I submit to his whims and conformity?"

"No." The man's eyes hardened. "Without your wings, you're no different than a high-ranking Player."

"Meaning…?" hissed the Harrier coolly with a deeper frown.

"Do you really think you could do your duties as you had when you're basically a Player yourself?" asked Sadist Saiyama gruffly, making the the Harrier huff in annoyance at the 'big reveal'. "The number of Players you Erase on a regular basis won't keep you in the Underground for even a month. Unless you can wrack in your Points in a blink of an eye, you will not be able to keep up with the other Reapers and you _will_ lose your existence one way or another." As the army man closed his eyes, frowning wearily, he breathed gravelly, "Oshiro gave you the Players' Souls from last Week, right?"

"If you mean forcing them down my throat when I didn't want that 'care package'…" said the Harrier tartly. His face twisted at the memory- hating how enjoyable it was to absorb them when they had done nothing wrong and weren't the ones he was hunting for- hating how he couldn't decline the offer as the Conductor belittled him as he had to force the Harrier's hand… "Then yes, I suppose he _had_ traumatized me."

"Well, I heard back from the DATA Sector, and apparently you consumed the worth of two months to exist for," explained the old man gruffly, causing the Harrier to flinch before the man went on, "Don't be happy about it… you're only borrowing time. Before you waste your existence now that you know about that-" The man's face altered into a hideous grimness as he coldly growled, "Think about what you should be using that time for, _instead_ of raising Reapers into headless chickens for your harebrained vision and actually smarten up! You got that?"

The Harrier bristled again. "Do I look happy about this arrangement?" he chose to retort back coolly, shifting on his bunk before he carefully picked up his Pins one at a time and tugged his lower section of his hood away from his body. With enough room to wiggle a hand in, he started to clip them onto his grey undershirt while mumbling, "I'm _not_ going to do as you please because the posh bastard delayed my expiration date."

When he felt that the army man had something to say about that, the Harrier spoke again to ruin the chance for the man, "I know what I want to do with myself… so why can't you not fucking butt into my shitty existence?" He paused after equipping his last Pin, inhaling slowly before he huffed indignantly, "It doesn't matter if I'm undercut because I'm pretty sure I'll never get my wings back if I do what I want. All that I care about is trying to get my foot in the door to get Recruiting into place." He frowned, lifting his hood slightly as he held his head high while locking his gaze with Saiyama. "Not because I want to get an umbrella over my head to get fools like you off my back, but to actually make a difference for the lives of those who are still suffering inside Shibuya."

He then held his tongue, refusing to add more to his explanation. If he went on, he would only make himself pitiful towards the sadist and clearly mark himself down as vulnerable. After all the troubles he's been having with the sadist, the Harrier wanted to at least to stand taller than admit he knew it wouldn't be long until he would lose the opportunity to control his existence. However, he couldn't smother the irksome pang that he was explaining this to a man he knew wouldn't understand or accept what the Harrier was trying to achieve.

The Harrier had to clam up before he gave more away. ...Giving out too much information could shortchange him later.

Pretending to yawn, he lowered himself onto his mattress and tried to control his breathing. He hoped that if he waited long enough, he could fool the army man into assuming the Harrier had finally exhausted himself from their dumb conversation… Well, getting his Pins back was an unexpected plus, but that wasn't relevant to shooing off his current handler.

When a hand laid down on his shoulder, momentarily startling him enough to struggle to maintain his mien, he couldn't help but frown in confusion when the man murmured, "I still don't get it… how it had to be you."

Keeping himself perfectly in place, the sound of the army man's receding footfalls did little to ease the stress he thought would go away. He couldn't help but wonder how long it would be until his next handler would arrive, closing his eyelids from the exhaustion finally weighing them down...

* * *

**Four Weeks after dying**

* * *

This was a mistake...

The young man stood frozen as the pungent smell invaded his nose, leaving him reeling as he tried telling himself he must have gone into the wrong house. Even so, he couldn't tear his eyes away no matter how hard his rational side of his brain screamed, choking on his own breath the longer he remained glued to the ivory floor and his eyes barely picked out the furniture in the gloom.

Soon, he was aware of how his shoulders bobbed, feeling vibrations in his throat as laughter expelled from his lips. It only baffled and horrified him as to why he was so pathetic to react like this. He couldn't help but press a hand to his forehead and bridge of his nose, shaking his head as he smiled shakily and slowly found it within himself to step closer… closer and closer… He felt his lips downturn as the tears fell without resistance… halting when his Liger loop-stripe shoes nearly nudged it.

What a terrible joke… what a damningly terrible joke…

His mind somehow was blank… throughout the whole time his ears were ringing and blaring noise was assaulting his hearing... Throughout the whole time his vision buzzed, as if static was trying to cover it up, and swam as the tears gushed down faster… Throughout the whole time he stayed in the room… with the still, scarlet-stained body of that woman.

How awful it was, that he hadn't thought to visit sooner… to see who did this to her… That he hadn't been careful… to avoid this place after his foolish return a Week after he died… That now of _all_ times… he had to breakdown when he thought he didn't have to deal with this shit anymore…

Bubbles… no, foam was around her mouth and crimson throat… She didn't take medication… she was against the idea of taking them...

His eyes sharpened, even when bile was nearly spilling from his throat, the moment he saw the pill bottle... Moving towards the container… having already lifted it to his face somehow… he saw the ripped off label yet still was able to hone in on the Kanji that hadn't been disfigured by the sloppy handiwork…

Even if he couldn't make sense of who this belonged to… the doctor's name was still available…

His heart grew colder and harder… yet it didn't extinguish the thoughts that started swirling around in his head…

The earliest thing he could remember dragged itself out from the recesses of his memories… echoing in his brain… causing him to squeeze tightly on to the frail plastic…

Despite all odds… criminals always left evidence at the scene… As trivial as a pill bottle… as trivial as they thought they were smart enough to pull this off… as trivial as they fucked up the scene they were going for… because footprints only belonged to one person… No matter how much you try to dissuade the crowd… someone was bound to step into them to be followed back to their owner…

His previous guilt melted away… of the screaming Pact that he was petrified to watch as they had reappeared too soon from the fight... They were dissolving into static and particles when they stumbled onto the pavement… clumping together in a macabre fashion… for him to pick up and crush to finally push back the clock looming over his body that was breaking down and turning bleak... He couldn't allow himself right away to step forward to claim them as his first meal… just watching the scene unfold flipped his stomach...

All the while... in the silence he had a hand in creating... he wondered what the fuck he was thinking that he could stay here to repeat the same thing because of the thought of fading away was the last thing he wanted... to avoid suffering through the experience of dying again... if he had to replay it as it had in that moment...

The Reaper drew in a shuddery breath, frowning back to the pill bottle.

It wasn't going to be an issue, he told himself, while closing his achy, watery eyes.

The Game could survive without him for a bit.

* * *

**To be continued… hope you enjoyed the chapter! =3**

* * *

**EeveeGen9988: "Hello, people, you survived Part 2! (I wouldn't be surprised if you took breaks while reading this chapter, heh.) =D  
**

**It took me many, many hours again to get the content written down for this instalment of Mr Reaper and many, many more hours to get the revision done, so I hope it came out okay. (After this, Eevee will dig out food and actually eat her dinner when she's done setting up the posting on SOSS.)**

**While the first two Parts, as I mentioned at the beginning, were for 2019 Twelve Shots of Summer, this story will have Parts being posted for Shibuya Operation - Story Storm. For those who don't know, it's a writing challenge run by the same guy I know who runs TSoS but in the Winter for stories. It's for helping to push authors to be able to hopefully complete a story or more depending on the menu items- or posting templates, as they are- you plan or may choose to finish by the end of the ten official weeks season or the eleventh week (that's a grace week). At the forum, known by the same name as the writing challenge, you may interact with fellow writers and can support and encourage each other as you work on your stories. The community is a real treat to be a part of during the season, even when you just come along to chat even if you're not taking part during a season. You should check it out. =3**

**I feel like I don't have much to say this time around for my author's notes, so I hope you're not too disappointed by them. D=**

**But how about some fun facts? *sweatdrops***

**Fun Fact - The opening sequence for present time originally had our protagonist smoking, so during the third edit, I realized he actually wasn't the type of guy who I think would smoke. Thus, as you may come to realize, I had to recreate the first scene and revise it for about ten hours or more hours. (I stopped editing that day after I was done because it fried my brain from having to deal with it.)**

**Fun Fact - In order to try and make the whiteboard, or greyboard as our protagonist chose to call it, scene as authentic as possible, I actually happened to be at a dollar store that was selling a good quality whiteboard and bought one to do my homework for making the scene go right. Did you know if you don't erase whatever you write on there for a while it becomes harder to wipe off and might smudge the whiteboard? Well, to put it simply: Your whiteboard can become a greyboard. =D ...As well, it's hard to get dry-erase smudge off your clothing if you choose to wipe it off with your clothing. *RIP Eevee's shirt she was stupid enough to use for that one time* D=**

**Fun Fact - Remember that message that our protagonist had Jimmy write on his arm? Guess what, it's actually possible to write it on your arm! ...You know why? *turns away to continue scrubbing the words off of her arm***

**...**

**As well, because you have survived Part 2... congratulations! You found something! =D**

* * *

**NEW LETTER THREAD HAS BEEN [SUCCESSFULLY] CREATED**

**THREAD_TYPE = [PRIVATE]=[HM to KF]**

**DATE_OF_CREATION = 06/07/22/PM/SUN/18/MAY/1975**

**ENTRY_NO = 48159077**

**LOG_NAME = MsCFHL**

**DOCUMENT_ALIAS = Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry 48159077**

* * *

**Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry 48159077  
DOCUMENT CONTENT IS AS FOLLOWS**

Dear, Ms. Fukuhashi,

I have been trying to contact you during this week and you haven't responded once, so I decided to create another Letter Thread to hopefully reach you! I don't know if something intercepted my other Letters or if you lost them, so I have no clue how much you've heard from me this past week! I haven't done my reports but I hope you don't miss this one, I've been so worried about you, Fukuhashi! Please be okay!

To start, guess what? The scary-eyed Reaper forgot his backpack the day I met him! I know it's wrong to be snooping through people's things, but since I didn't get a name (but let the guy drink despite not knowing how old he was because I forgot to ID those two Reapers), I thought I'd check if he had an ID in there. Unfortunately, there wasn't an ID in there (bummer). However, this guy's loaded with Yen Pins! I did just an estimation, and he must be rich with the amount he has on him! I promise I didn't take any out, I swear! Although, it's weird how he only has Yen Pins in his backpack. Shouldn't he have personal items that mean something to him in there? Or do you think he has them where he spends his time sleeping? I swear, I will not go and sneak into where he sleeps to find out! But knowing the guy has all this Yen on his back makes me worried someone might rob him if he's not careful! Oh my gosh! Fukuhashi, do you think he keeps it on him because someone did try to rob him!? Oh my gosh, I feel so awful that I didn't see that sooner! I'm such an idiot!

Just so you know, I mentioned the seeing the guy in the last few Letters I sent, but I wanted to make sure you got it because I have no clue and wanted to make sure I don't miss anything! Please be safe, Fukuhashi, if you're seeing this now!

Anyway, I have no idea how but the guy gave me a hard time and knew about me looking through his bag somehow! I don't know why or how but I was so scared of the scary-eyed Reaper I think I was going to puke and faint and short-circuit at the same time! It was so terrible! Then he stormed off and let it go without warning… which was good? Oh boy, I'm just glad the other customers didn't think I needed to see a doctor again...

I know you told me to not worry about the guy, but Iwao that day, afternoon, uh, time, had some thoughts about him that made me think maybe you may have been right about not worrying about the guy, even though I still do? Although, Iwao didn't seem happy after I brought the guy up, so maybe those two aren't pals? Whatever it was, Iwao didn't stay long even though he ordered a big, big meal, so do you think I upset him? Oh no, I hope I haven't because Iwao hasn't been back, no wait, I mean he came back but wouldn't talk to me because he seemed more angry later that day. I thought for sure he wouldn't swing back here but he did and I don't like how he's so bothered or something! I couldn't make him feel better, so it must have been terrible. I feel bad for him, I wish I could do something to make him feel better.

As well, something doesn't feel right. Not me, of course, but something else, I guess? I'm not trying to bait you into responding to me, I swear! You said check on the Game and anything out of danger sorts, but something that isn't that has just been bothering me. Unlike the end of the last Round… and you know how I get when I feel like something doesn't seem right… I think something happened. I can't explain it, but there's been less, oh no, I can't seem to explain it, I'm so sorry, Fukuhashi! Is that what you were talking about? That something from all the normal doesn't feel right? Or am I just confusing you? It's just that… it's like I know something doesn't belong here and I can't see it no matter what… or figure it out? Maybe I'm just imagining it? Or does it belong here? Whatever it is, I feel something's wrong, and I hope you can get this message, okay!? Okay?

Don't worry, I'm going to try and do my reports as fast as I can before you think about visiting me because I know you'll get me to do them and watch me until I get each of them done. But please, I don't know what to do about the thing I can't seem to explain! And I'll try to not think about the scary-eyed Reaper, but I swear his eyes will haunt me until I'm done in the Realground! I haven't even left the place because I'm worried he might spot me and get angry at me again for something else!

I'll send another Letter if you don't respond after a day at most. I'll just hold up the fort and write another Letter to send tomorrow this time for now.

I want you to be safe and sound please be safe and sound,  
\- Hiraku Maeda

* * *

**Response #1KF to **_**Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry #48159077  
**_**RESPONSE CONTENT IS AS FOLLOWS**

Dear, Mr. Maeda,

I am safe, do not fret. I will not explain myself.

I am still waiting on your reports, which you have failed to provide, and creating a new Letter Thread to bypass the ones I have yet to go through after you supply the reports because you have blatantly disregarded my warnings is unacceptable. However, I will temporarily lift my previous statement of not responding to you and consider your request for assistance in establishing this concern you have asserted. Know that once I do, you will do your reports, or I will cancel my services and communication until the next rotation. I have full trust you will be able to handle your term on your own if such arises; be thankful for the support I have lent to you up to now.

As I had explained in our last conversation, you have now mentioned you have perceived an abnormality, correct? Are you unable to locate it purely from restricting yourself to a singular location from unnecessary distress, or are you unable to project your ability to find it through some limitation? Being unable to properly organize whatever you are sensing is nothing short of concern. Your abilities as an Angel should allow you to monitor the Realground and Underground and understand the status of what Shibuya herself is feeling, and through her, her inhabitants of each Plane. Anything contained within herself should be able to be inspected and analyzed; footprints covered should still be able to be uncovered.

Maeda, using the Leylines are not recommended under normal circumstances, however, if you feel you must use them to settle your unease, do so sparingly. If the Composer detects you, it will only prove difficult in your ability to continue your search. Do not engage if the Composer makes an appearance.

This will be all that I will speak of this until you send in a report.

Do not test my generosity,  
\- Kotone Fukuhashi


	4. Mr Salvager

**Mr Reaper**

**I do not own The World Ends With You, Square Enix does!**

**Mr Reaper Part 3 was written for Shibuya Operation - Story Storm (SOSS); previous chapters (Parts 0 and 1) were posted during Twelve Shots of Summer (TSoS).**

**...**

**3 - Mr Salvager**

* * *

**Months Earlier...**

* * *

"This is different..."

"..."

"Did you… tell them anything?"

"..."

"Me? Just me?"

"..."

"Do you hear me?"

"..."

"You're giving me the silent treatment now… _Dammit_, I could have sworn you were talking to me."

"..."

"I mean, with all that I do, maybe I should take it easy for the next while."

"..."

"I spend a lot of my time fixing the mistakes reapers put people through because they think a lacklustre job is fine! I've dealt with severed heads being set sideways- fingers being mixed up with the thumb in the middle and the pinkie on the thumb stump and the middle on another middle- which is fucking _unforgivable_!- and don't get me started with their _eyes_! ...Fuck."

"..."

"Have you ever seen when eyes have been _swapped_!? They one time put one in the other and I was lucky when I was there to find out about that because the eyes wouldn't stop- _lolling_ around and _twitching_ at the same time! Reapers were going crazy and acting like spineless pansies until I took on that case! Those fucking reapers who did that were damn idiots because they _thought_ we were none the wiser! _Oh ho_, it's not a fucking joking matter when you screw with the life of another human being- and for your case..."

"..."

"For your case... everyone gave up on you."

"..."

"...I'm not going to do that. Out of all the reapers involved, I was the one paged to help you after the whole 'jackpot points' fiasco. I mean, _I_ don't think it was necessary to twiddle points like that. I think it was fucking stupid, between you and me. They should have just left you be and let the professionals do their thing. But _no_... they didn't. And look at what happened..."

"..."

"You're in safe hands now. We have plenty of time to get to know each other."

"..."

"Well, me more than you once I get you sorted out better, heh. So if you can get your invisible flap going again… then I'll know I'm not crazy."

"..."

"Oh boy… who am I kidding? I've wasted enough time talking to air and dust particles... I'm here for a reason, and I need to get this done before the spirit's lost! Get it together and go back to work."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...H-Help…"

"Seriously... you choose _now_ of all times to-"

"I don't _want_ to di-ey-ey-eye…"

A long sigh sounded, "...Don't worry."

"I don't want to di-ey-ey-eh…!"

"You're not going to die again."

"I don't want to!"

"...Do you hear me now?"

"...P-Please… h-help…"

"Maybe later on… I'll ask again later…"

"H-Help me… it h-_hurts_…"

"I'm here, don't worry."

"H-Help me…! I'm _begging_ you...!"

"Shh… I'm here."

"Help... me..."

"You're not going to die. Trust me."

"..."

Another sigh sounded, "I'm not crazy…"

"..."

"Just get back to work."

* * *

**\- 1975 -  
****Present time**

* * *

"Due to your choice to remain in the Barracks, I feel that you have shown that you are no longer suffering from your previous ailments," the Conductor told the Harrier on the morning of the last Day of the Week, yet all the Harrier could respond with was silence and a tight scowl under his hood. The man puffed out his chest as he went on, "Know that I expected you to have sprung an escape at any point of the Week, but to hear you cooperated and complied with my order, I see no reason for you to be kept from your duties now."

"Ignoring the fact you provoked me into attacking you…" started the Harrier grumpily, he soon tilted his head and forced out a gustous sounding chirp, "Sure! We'll go with that."

The posh bastard exhaled softly, his cold gaze unwavering as he breathed, "I suggest you take heed. You very well may not gain the same outcome, must you find yourself with the unfortunate results of your actions once more. Thus, if you wish to maintain good standings, refute your cancerous ideals and don't go against the grain."

"But I already _am_ doing that… Thank you for your _noteworthy_ concern, though," snarked the Harrier, shifting his arm across his stomach and dipping his body in a shallow bow. He could practically tell the posh bastard wasn't amused by that as the Harrier was. However, being crammed in a corner for a Week and finally having his bird cage door open was enough to put the Harrier in high spirits to not care about the stakes for now.

As he straightened himself out, he crossed his arms. "Was that all you had to say..." He smirked coolly. "Or should I take my leave?"

When the posh bastard opened his mouth, he held it open for a moment before sighing out from it. His jaws pressed closed, resuming his uptight-ass mien as he placed his other hand on his cane. "You may," he stiffly responded. "...Take care."

Nodding at that, and ignoring how it sounded like the posh bastard had been recently tortured when he added that last bit, the Harrier grinned to himself as he trotted past the suited man. When the man made no attempt to say more or call the Harrier back to talk about any other bullshit, he was at ease as he left the Barracks.

While he kept moving, he couldn't help but find it was invigorating the further he put distance between them. It wasn't long until he found himself gaining speed as he broke into a run through the halls, narrowly weaving past vultures acting as human pylons for him and felt the need to skip along the whishing river. He would have, that is, if he wasn't so perturbed by the thought of acting _too_ happy and giving the Conductor his satisfaction if a vulture decided to comment on it to the posh bastard. Therefore, he refused to break character and pushed himself to feign urgency of leaving as for why he nearly pushed an Officery-looking Reaper over as he was nearing the River's exit.

The moment he took in a breath of moist, watery air at the mouth of the exit, he didn't care about the fact it was a downpour and ran straight into it. Laughing merrily, he slowed to pace in a lazy circle on the spot, slightly raising his arms and head to the sky to feel the drizzle and condensation contacting his skin.

Refreshing… _so_ refreshing…

He couldn't help but grin harder. His heart made leaps and bounds as warmth filled his chest, laughter soon bubbling softly from it to rumble out of his throat.

It felt _so_ good to be outside...

When his high ebbed slightly, he finally halted and inhaled deeply and exhaled contently. The Harrier shifted his head to look around himself as he was lowering his arms, his smile turning into a small beam as he contemplated what he should do first.

Find Andy and followup on what's been happening?

Let the shower drench himself and not care about getting sick because of the joy he felt from being one with nature?

Take to the streets and do some solo recon?

The Harrier didn't have to think about it too much, deciding that easing his friend's distress was of utmost important. He didn't want to be an ass to her; not when he got abducted because he 'fainted' this time for sure. It wouldn't be fair to her. Not at all…

He threw around some ideas on where he would usually go with Andy, knowing that they would either be hunting for new targets or eating out on Day 7… The Harrier crossed his arms as he mused, trying to factor himself outside of the usual equation to get the results he wanted. The possible whereabouts she could be at were now scrambled, leaving him to believe his friend could be anywhere. ...Dammit. That threw a wrench into his plan.

Cursing to himself softly, his eyebrows knitted as he tried to summon any relevant information from the depths of his brain… Nothing. Well then, wasn't he up to his knees with shit fortune. He sighed heavily, shifting uneasily on the spot. He felt almost as if the excitement spurring him on to get out of the Shibuya River was zapped right out of him when it occurred to him as much as he told Andy he planned ahead to successfully go ahead, he had fucking no clue how to plan out where to find his spirited, wayward friend.

What kind of friend didn't know the haunts their friend dwelled in? What kind of friend ditched their friend? What kind of friend wouldn't think about contacting their friend when they had no fucking way of knowing what happened to the friend who hadn't thought about reaching out to them if something not ideal happened?

...Himself; apparently.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he lowered his gaze to the ground to distractedly glance around. **'Well, aren't I an idiot...'** he mused to himself mentally. **'At the drop of a hat, I've become the scum of the moment. Wasting the air with my toxic carbon dioxide as I sap the righteous oxygen from those who need it.'**

A heaviness settled in his chest, almost anchoring him to the spot as the rain now felt like it was biting his flesh and nipping through his Reaper garments. It seemed right to take it all in- letting the sudden coldness seep into his aching bones…

"It is raining today…"

Blinking, he was surprised to find he had a visitor. No wait-

Swiftly pivoting his body towards the person who had spoken, he stiffened slightly in place as he gasped out, "It's you again!"

And there she was: The girl from last Week.

The Harrier breathed shakily for a bit, soon narrowing his eyes at the ebony haired and eyed girl who innocently frowned back. "D-Did you…" he breathed, searching for something coherent to end his sentence with before settling with a simple gulp before speaking again, "Wh-Where were you?"

She bit her lip; sadness shined in her eyes. "I am sorry… I could not find you."

"Find me?" He frowned, tilting his head a smidge.

She took a few steps towards him, dipping her head slightly as she murmured bashfully, "I tried to find someone for help, but I had no luck. And when I traced myself back to you…" Her expression twisted painfully. "You were gone."

Oh… so it was a matter of missing each other. Or- to be more precise- her mistaking him to have spontaneously Erased before she got back. That was enough for him to drop his suspicions she left him for 'dead', so to speak.

He relaxed only so much as he let out a sigh, "Someone found me first." He turned away, raising his hand as the rain felt like it was pounding down harder and gritted his teeth. "I guess I ran out of steam and juice to keep going?" He shrugged with uncertainty, wiggling his shoulders and connecting arms up and down in sync for each side for a while, grimacing soon after as he put in, "Eh… not entirely certain what happened, though."

Behind him, she nodded slowly before her head twitched at the last moment. "That is good to hear." She gave a sigh of her own. She intertwined her hands as she went on softly, almost calmly, if he squinted enough at the tone, "I could have sworn you had become lost for good, as I guess one can only conclude so much from a disappearance."

The Harrier nodded at that, twitching his head to watch her in the corner of his left eye.

She was- if he could describe it well enough- drifting around the pavement, ignoring the rain as it created light mist to slither and gather on the ground. Nearby her shoes, the misting appeared to follow her, as if her outline was giving off an aura…

He blinked and wondered how he couldn't sense her appearance beforehand. Did she just return from the Realground, or was she that good at sneaking up on people? He thought Andy held the title for creeping behind him successfully… so he supposed Andy may have to defend herself if she were to remain the champion.

The female Reaper soon smiled small at him, blinking as well. "Honoka…"

"Huh?" He twitched and raised an eyebrow at that.

"That is my name. Honoka," she supplied simply with a small bow. Her smile almost broke while she rose up before she dipped her head gingerly. "I forgot to introduce myself last time." she murmured sadly.

He nodded, placing a hand on his chest. "My apologies then." He finally turned back to bow to her, dropping his arm to do it properly. "I'm-"

Water suddenly dunked on his head, causing him to start stiffly and freeze in place.** '**_**Fuck**_**!' **His stifled breath lingering on his tongue spilled out, and the Harrier instantly placed a hand to his drenched hood as the water seeped through the fabric. It began to slip down his head, neck then undershirt as he shook his head in befuddlement at the aquatic attack.

**'What was **_**that**_**!?' **He squinted, feeling his teeth chatter as he death-glared the tree branch that waved up and down. He then wondered, in dismay, how the amount of water that bombed his head could have possibly gathered on the skimpy, leafy branch as it had to do that.

His face dropped it's tautness when Honoka laughed. The Harrier, in turn, squinted more while she shook her head lightly and gasped out, "What are the odds of _that_?"

At first, he flatly regarded her, grumpily making note it made no sense for how the rain could have landed like that- It was downright impossible! Even so, he held back his commentary, trying to recompose himself as he quietly yet tartly replied, "I must look like a drowned rat then..."

She widened her eyes, shaking her head fretfully as she breathed out, "I did not mean to laugh." She frowned immediately. "It just seemed so incredulous to have happened."

"Incredulous?" he echoed with a sharp eyebrow raise. That wasn't a right way to put it... seeing as that word held no relevance or significance to the situation.

Honoka face shied away. "...U-Unexpected."

The Harrier began to carefully wring his hood by curling the outer rim of the fabric backwards, shivering slightly as he mumbled out, "...F-Fair enough."

He was thankful he didn't even have to worry about his hair. It wouldn't matter if it turned fluffy and frizzy from drying under the safety of his hood and body heat, because to _hell_ with a Bad Hair Day! Who would see it _anyway_!?

Stuffing his hands into his pockets again, he walked over to seek shelter under an overhanging roof. Upon turning around, he noticed the girl remained where she was admiring her surroundings. Odd… Was she that smitten with the terrible forecast that she was ignorant to her own health?

"Hey," he softly breathed out. It seemed to catch her attention a few seconds later as she was now frowning at him. "You're going to catch a cold."

Honoka suddenly adopted an odd look. What? How was mentioning that fact making him out to be the weird one right now?

Slowly, after staring at him for some time, she turned her head to the sky, remaining still as the rain struck her and bounced across the street. He would have spoken again had she not closed her eyes, appearing peaceful as it continued to drench her hair black.

The Harrier couldn't really tell what was going on in her mind. It was as if time had stopped for her, leaving her suspended in an almost trance-like state… He simply watched, interested in what she was doing yet he couldn't help but feel frustrated she was being an idiot. He could even forget how his head was almost numb from the splash of water from earlier refusing to uncling from him, beading on his eyelashes, eyebrows and jaw as he remained safeguarded from the downpour.

"Why are you hiding from the rain?" Honoka asked serenely, her dark eyelashes batting lethargically as she side-glanced him.

He balked at that. **'What is she going on about?'** He crossed his arms, looking away from her as he huffed out, "Well, why wouldn't I seek shelter from it?" He shifted a bit, turning his head back slightly as he coolly went on, "It's cold, it's wet… it's- not to mention-" He frowned, letting it enter his tone as he finished, "Lightning could be close behind."

"You are scared then?" she guessed, making him shake his head indignantly at that as she drew her hands together. Her hair was already plastered to her skull as she murmured with laughter in her voice, "There has been no sightings of thunder or lightning- All of your answers indicate you have a subjective aversion to it. Have you thought of whether it may actually be good for us? Can you not name a reason to like it?"

"If you haven't noticed," he answered pointedly, gesturing a hand to the sky as he scowled upwards. "It's a _downpour_!"

"It still is rain," she simply returned with a shrug. She shifted a hand palm up before cupping it to catch the rapid droplets. "Before... you seemed to be enjoying it."

The Harrier couldn't really deny that…

"What changed your mind? Because it soaked your head? That it is a downpour?" she rapidly asked with a single little bounce on the spot. She gradually brought her other hand to the one water dribbled out of, siphoning it into the new hand as she cradled the water almost lovingly. Her eyes glowed warmly as she gazed at it, smiling abashedly before glancing up at him, beaming now. "There is still time to relish it before it is gone!"

He narrowed his eyes, soon noticing the shower was dying down and blinked in awe before he stared at the Support Reaper again. She kept her gaze on him and the Harrier wondered if she was waiting for him. He very much wanted to stay where he was, yet he was interested in seeing what Honoka was leaning towards right now.

_Damn_ his curiosity… He couldn't even pass this up.

Slowly, he stepped back under the sheet of water, grimacing as he trekked towards the girl Reaper. He soon stood in front of the girl to pointedly regard her. "Well…" he started out coolly, blinking as he asked, "Now what?"

Her face fell for some reason. "Did you only join me because I was prompting for it?"

"No, it seemed like you would tell me the point of this if I did," he gruffly huffed, crossing his arms instantly. "Was this a test?"

She shook her head, almost as if she was taken aback. "O-Of course not," she said, still keeping the water in her hands safely even when she frowned at him. "I was wondering why you would hide from the rain, when you seemed so glad about it." She paused before continuing, "What had changed? Why would you leave it behind as you had? What made you hate it?" Her eyebrows knitted. "Of all those things, I could not help but feel bad for whatever the case had been."

Sighing, he curtly spoke as he lowered his head a bit, "Aren't you philosophical…" He smacked his lips, half-closing his eyes as he ignored how he was shivering under the cool barrage. No sense in going back under that roof now… "It bothered me," he said. "That's all."

"How so?"

He grimaced again, grumpily wondering what was so confusing about that. "For one, I told you why. Second, I was irritated because it bothered me." He narrowed his eyes before he huffed out hotly with a scoff, "It's not rocket science, _alright_?"

She nodded slowly, sadly gazing back to her cradled water. "I see…" She smiled weakly after that, soon murmuring gently, "There is nothing wrong with feeling like that, but-" She glanced up, as if searching the shadow of his face for eyes to meet before half-heartedly giving up to blink towards him. "You cannot just avoid it if it is there. When you can enjoy it without any worries, when you have no reason to fret…" A beam popped onto her face. "Right?"

The Harrier felt odd when he mulled over her words, wondering if she was trying to allude to something when a wet something else grasped his hands. It made him flinch and flail to some degree, soon realizing Honoka was holding his hands tenderly with her own.

**'I thought I told you I'm not a touchy-feely guy!'** he thought with vex, promptly registering her fingers were brushing along his hands yet he made no move to remove them. ...He didn't know why. The Harrier merely gazed deeply at her, trying to scrutinize her motives for taking ahold of his hands (now cold and freezing from how wet her hands had become). **'I **_**can't**_** believe she forgot I told her that!'**

A trickle of light flashed through her eyes, catching his attention as she breathed out softly, "There is much to be done. The longer you hesitate, the more likely you will lose out. Do not be daunted…"

His breath hitched at that, idly pondering the words as it didn't seem to be as if those words had context to his apparent 'fear' of the rain. Even so, he couldn't help but feel like they were for encouragement… Nothing more; nothing less.

Suddenly, she ripped her hands away. Honoka began to flusteredly twist around to his puzzlement before she half-gasped and half-cried out, "Oh no- _dear me_\- How could I _forget_!?"

"What's the matter?" he helpfully- maybe not at all- asked.

She blinked, as if remembering he was still there before her stock-still body simply relaxed. Honoka turned to him, nervously smiling as she explained, "I had an arrangement to meet with others. I think the rain distracted me, heh."

"Well then," he said firmly, sighing under his breath before he went on with slight playfulness, "I implore you to go and find those others. It would be terrible to leave them on a limb, stranded and afraid of what has become of you, _oh_ forgetful one…" The Harrier rested an arm across his chest and did a 'humble bow' for effect, feeling his chest swell at how her face softened and eyes glowed warmly at him. He didn't know why he went with it, but it worked to calm her down, right?

Honoka nodded, looking determined as she turned before parting from him. When she disappeared into the remaining misty terrain ahead, he let himself drop his act and crossed his arms.

**'I have to wonder what was so important that she could forget about it so easily?'** he mindfully pondered to himself, feeling his eyebrows pull themselves down as he tilted his head. **'But… that doesn't matter.'**

As he became aware of how the rain was lightly pattering the cement again, he pursed his lips.** 'I should actually find Andy instead of wasting my first moment of freedom talking about philosophical shit…'**

Although... he couldn't help but feel as if he enjoyed that conversation. As ambiguous as it was, in his opinion.

* * *

It was starting to clear up when the Harrier received word that Day 7 was completed for this Round. By then he had come up with nothing from his baseless strategy of walking around to luckily bump into his friend, leaving his mind to concoct various reasons as for why Andy was nowhere to be seen.

He took a break from looking around, not minding the fact he was out of breath from a near hour walk to appreciate the fact he could exhaust himself if he wanted to now. Even when he was weary from Number Twos this Week, he couldn't help but feel refreshed.

The Harrier started to knead his hoodie's hood, trying to ease out the leftover water taking residence in it as he pondered where he should look next. Andy didn't really have a location she was particularly attracted to, as she once mentioned earlier on in their work that she couldn't bring herself to see Shibuya as home yet. He couldn't blame her for feeling like that; he hardly could look at the city the same after that one night.

Rocking on his heels uncomfortably, he tried to tug his thoughts away to muse on the fact how funny it was they resorted to calling Shibuya a city when it was- in fact- a prefecture; a special district of a bigger, bouncing metropolis. He couldn't help but go with the flow of the norm to call Shibuya a city, as it wouldn't do him good to correct people or bulldoze them with his preference of seeing it as it was supposed to be.

Interesting how it could spark debates, he noted mentally. Although, he found it funny how of all places, a humongous shopping district would hold underground- no pun intended- activities where it was right above Shibuya… What was so special about it to have Noise milling about to invade their world, their ward…? In any case, it might be best to not think about it too much.

He pulled out the two taot papers he was given long ago, making note that he should figure out which Noise he should spring upon his targets next Week… He already was set with plenty of Noise prepared as he took a moment to recount the number of Symbols marked on the square and rectangle taot paper. When he was finished, he simply put them back into his pants pocket. The Harrier went on to disgruntledly mull over the fact that he had only so much time to bring in new wrongdoers before the call was made that all slots were filled for the next Round… However, it seemed likely he would be cutting it too close and might have to wait until the next, _next_ Round to hunt his targets.

Breathing out through his nose in irritation, he didn't want to go this alone without his friend by his side… and yet, he didn't have much of a choice if she was elsewhere. The Harrier reminded himself he didn't have to actually hunt for two months or so, if he didn't focus on the three wrongdoers' Souls he did eat, but Andy needed his help more than ever.

As a fact that remained true to this day, Andy wasn't a strong Reaper…

Often times, before they officially teamed up, when he was by his lonesome, he could see through her elbows whenever he passed by her on the streets. Since Andy seemed like the type of person to be prideful, and would take any aid as a form of insult or attack, he didn't press the offer of helping her out. Each time the thought crossed his mind, he felt guilty more and more as he kept silent about what he observed.

You may wonder why he thought about her if he never let himself interact with her after they became Reapers, but the fact was that he couldn't forget her even if he wanted to. It all the more made him feel worse; the reminder he was leaving her on her own when he could do something, but he still didn't allow that be a reason to forget about her. After all, how could he? How could he when she was the first competent person he came across in his time in the Underground? Therefore, he kept observing her, making note of whether or not her wings were fading or becoming more intricate as the Weeks went on.

One Day he managed to summon the courage to ask if she wanted to learn Japanese, after he noticed she kept skirting around corners nearby him whenever he was collecting Points from a wrongdoer. He didn't let the implication that she was stalking him deter him, instead seizing it as an opportunity to finally get close to Andy to hopefully help her. And, by luck, during one of their Japanese lessons she reached out for him, after he prematurely ended it when he noticed she wasn't feeling too hot. It came in the form of the question of why he wasn't pursuing Players after Erasing their Partners, or to be exact, wrongdoers.

It was during that moment they came to an agreement: Andy could have his 'leftovers'.

Thus, he found himself at ease when he started letting her tag along on his hunts- soon progressing into her tailing after him into the Realground and offing her own targets… How she was following his example made him realize she actually cared about what he thought he had to do alone. It made him feel more confident in himself and elated that someone wanted to hear his opinions and feelings. She did that during the short time they initially knew each other, but at the later points in time, it made him feel less small and bigger than he had ever felt in his life- even his existence.

After that, everything came into place… They became friends. Not shoddy parasites… they were friends.

...But what did their friendship have to show if he couldn't figure out where she was?

Centering his mind on that thought, he tried to push away the toxic guilt that was steadily building for the last few Days and started to walk again. Find Andy first... then his targets.

As he was steering clear of the bustling road- damn rush hour- and kept to the sidewalk, he couldn't help but notice vultures' eyes were honing in on him. The burning feeling made him warily glance around, shouting mentally for them to mind their own business... then a Support came into his path.

At first, the Harrier cringed away, warily observing the vulture who stood in front of him and clearly meant to stop him like this. He wasn't happy that someone, who wasn't his friend, intended to speak with him when they- he- breathed out, "You're finally outside…"

"Uh…" The Harrier grimaced under his hood, awkwardly making note that they were too close for comfort yet he could tell something was up. "Yeah…?" he supplied lamely, trying to regain control of himself by inhaling deeply. When he was finished, he spoke again to hopefully sound nonchalant and not unintelligent this time around, "Was pretty stuffy inside..." What was he supposed to say!? If the Harrier knew what this conversation was about, he wouldn't be struggling to make casual chitchat in front of this Support!

The Support nodded. "I-I wanted to say something, b-but I didn't want to disturb you too much." He paused abruptly, soon stuttering out, "I-I hope you're feeling better now!"

Oh! Maybe the posh bastard kept up the facade that the Harrier was sick, so the Harrier must have gotten some sympathizers because of that? ...The Harrier decided it was time to switch gears; snatch the perceived truth by the horns!

"I am, thank you for your concerns," he intoned slickly with a hum, nodding as he placed a hand over his heart. "I was cleared this morning, and it feels so good to stretch my legs..." He fanned out his hand as he lifted it away from his chest, holding it out to the side as he sighed happily, "I even soaked myself to the bone for the experience today!"

"A-Are you cold?" asked the ever bashful Support worriedly.

"Nah, it's been cool and refreshing, to be frank," he smoothly replied with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He shifted before he drew his hand closer to gesture idly as he went on, "Too bad I missed the Week, though… I would have liked to have seen the batch of Players squirm around the city… give them a hard time for the kicks..." He whisked his hand one last time to bring his palm upward. "The usual."

"Yeah…" The Support nodded again, soon clasping his hands as he added meekly, "I-I thought things were almost game over for Recruitment… until I saw Andy and that other guy the other Day."

"You saw Andy!?" cried out the Harrier. _Fuck_ small talk- this was the lead he needed! He tried to unruffle himself as he dropped his hand and asked eagerly, "What happened? Do you know what they were doing?" He'll just assume the 'other guy' was Jimmy for now until someone else was framed in the picture… got to have his fingers crossed and all.

"Flagging people down?" The Support shrugged in a lacklustre manner, visibly deflating seconds later. "A-Although I couldn't abandon Wall Duty, so I never got a chance to find out."

The Harrier shook his head, grinning as he chirped, "No, no… It's not your fault you were stuck being on-duty." He experimentally placed a hand on the red-hooded Reaper's shoulder for 'comfort', feeling them relax under his palm. The Harrier wasn't great with physical touch gestures but he knew this was enough to send the right message to this Support. "I haven't had the chance to catch them myself, and I would appreciate it if you might know where they may be today."

Slowly leading people on to think they're actually important… The Harrier hated to exploit it or use others and hurt their feelings, but he didn't want to make Andy wait around for much longer. He _did_ promise he'd be back; promises were meant to be kept, after all. The Harrier was a man of his word, he believed. To further reinforce this, he told himself this was a humble exchange of information to get himself up to date with the Underground he was locked away from by that posh bastard. This wasn't exploiting it, nor was this going to hurt anyone if he said his please and thank yous...

He'll just let the irksome guilt slide for now.

"I-I think…" The Support slurred his words, soon resuming his response when he sounded more certain, "Miyashita Park? That guy had his friends with him... and Andy? She seemed to be talking about something, but..."

The Harrier would have just thanked the Support for the information had he not believed that he would be leaving the meek Support feeling like the Harrier only cared about the answers… The Support didn't know much about the current situation, but that was only because he was left out of the loop because of his circumstances. So could you blame a guy for not being in the know? Therefore, the Harrier decided it wouldn't be fair to ditch this Reaper. It would leave a marr on the Harrier's conscience, first off; and it seemed this Support was a supporter of Recruitment, second off.

In the eyes of the public, famous people could easily get slandered if they so much as acted outside of the consensus' expectations… Apply that to his situation and it wouldn't be any different. The Harrier reminded himself until Recruitment was in full swing, he had to maintain himself and not ward people off with the idea that he would toss them aside the moment their usefulness was gone. It left a vile taste in his mouth at the thought of playing people, even if they were vultures that all competed for Erasing Players to extend their expiration dates. He liked to believe he wasn't the type to think of persons as his chess pieces; they were people after all.

Sure, putting on an act played with the feelings of others… but it wasn't the same as lying to them or kicking them to the curb. He knew there was a _very_ thin line he couldn't quite fully flesh out about when to be honest and when to mislead others to save himself and others the grief of leaving themselves on a limb. His 'fainting' episode could attest to that, he supposed, as it was to make sure Reapers wouldn't catch onto his plans for that Day. If they were startled out of focusing on the conversation, they could easily forget it and feel frustrated over the commotion he made.

Yeah, that's probably what he was going for…

The Harrier hated the idea of being a doll everyone would be happy with; he could only hope the vultures would be interested in what he had to say and not his theatrics. This is exactly why he was disappointed people wouldn't stop acting like he was pitiful, or that him being sick was more important than the message he sent out. If no one could focus on the meaning he was trying to paint for them for why he was reaching out to their hearts, everything would crumble before him and Andy even got enough signatures. He didn't know how many they needed, but sixty... sixty-eight was hardly anything to sneeze at…

Hah. Wasn't he just the lovable, wisecracking firecracker?

So, as he kept his hand on the Support's shoulder, he crisply spoke, "If you're not busy, why not join me to see what's going on right now?"

The way the Support jolted made the Harrier wonder if this Reaper wasn't spoken to much. "I-I'm not busy!"

"Great!" the Harrier chirped contently, sliding his hand off as he nodded. "Lead the way."

When the Harrier made note of how the Support remained where he was, turning rigid, the Harrier couldn't help but worry he may have overstepped an invisible boundary of some kind. "...Something the matter?" he asked in confusion, furrowing his eyebrows.

The Support lowered their head. "N-No…"

"Then… what's wrong?" The Harrier frowned, scowling slightly yet tried to make his expression neutral in case the Support could see his lower half of his face right now. The Harrier had no clue if his hood provided enough cover to shadow his face in the current amount of lighting that was available in the afternoon… but you couldn't be too careful.

"I-I'm so honoured- s-so happy- I don't know if I _could_ move."

Oh boy… _that_ wasn't good.

The Harrier used as much energy as he could to conceal his grimace from his voice. "Um… we could go when you're ready to move?" Even if it was irritating he would have to delay his reunion with Andy, he could pretend he wasn't impatient. So, it would seem he will have to try to be understanding and tolerable with this Reaper's inability to process the Harrer's act of kindness towards him. Keyword: Try.

"We still got plenty of sunlight to burn," he added politely. "And it's not like we're on-duty now."

"S-Sorry," stuttered the Support, sniffing wetly. "I-It's just s-so- g-_great _you want t-to d-do that for m-me!"

The Harrier waved a hand in response. "No biggie." He put a smile on his face. "I don't want to leave you in the dark and all."

If the Harrier told the Support what he wrote on Jimmy now, the Harrier would hate to find out something complicated it later when he caught up with Andy. Therefore, he would have to keep his mouth zipped until rendezvous with Andy and-slash-or Jimmy. If something had changed, or something impeded their progress, it wouldn't make the Harrier appear as truthful as he was to this Support. Don't assume until you have more intel to base your next statements on… something akin to what his father told him once.

Immediately, the Harrier tried to push his father out of his head. He didn't want to tear up about how a dull slab of grief wanted to take the wheel of his thoughts, nor have this Support mistaken the Harrier for shedding tears of joy over them sharing this moment of waiting on the Support. Thus, he fought to push back the tears, pretending his sniffle was a sharp intake of breath gone wrong momentarily. **'****I'll be back soon, Andy…'**

Shouldn't take too long... right?

That question was left to the universe's mercy as he watched the unmoving Support in front of him.

* * *

When they finally arrived at the park an hour later, the Harrier couldn't help but remain quiet as he watched the Realground citizens idly walking around the area from nearby the stairs. It was a nice park... too bad construction limited the amount of land available for people to relax in.

He contemplated that thought for some time before he tried to lead the way to the stairs; swallowing thickly as he quickly blinked his tears away.

Whenever the woman wanted to get out of the house for a bit, she always took her young son with her while claiming 'he needs to get energy out of his system'. In actuality, her son would have liked to have stayed home, but he still went out to enjoy the weather. To be precise, he was just happy to be with his mother. He wouldn't step out of line, listened carefully to whatever she had said to behave and not give his mother trouble… Every time, he was in awe of the tranquility the place held.

When the son was eight or nine, it changed into something akin to a terrace above a parking lot and an overpass to Cat Street. There wasn't as much room to play, he still listened to his mother sigh wistfully about how they ruined the park… wondering in confusion what was wrong with the park to be altered as it was. They didn't stop returning; talking about things that wouldn't leave a lasting impression on their memories and the boy noticed how weary and chary his mother had become. He could only wonder if he spent too much time playing when he should have realized his mother only came here to clear her head; bringing him along must have been an afterthought.

The boy decided to not mention what he noticed, as he didn't want to burden his mother when she was just trying to escape for a bit. It didn't even bother him his mother wasn't going to leave him home alone, only that he wished she felt better each time they returned home.

It was later on that his mother stopped taking him to the park… She kept insisting that he should be focusing on his grades and she soon retired to stay home all day. His father died sometime after; the boy had been twelve-years-old then.

The Harrier blinked as he found himself still leading the way after his recollection was finished. He would have held onto his lament had he not brightened when he noticed familiar dirty blonde hair was bristling from the wind.

He shouted out, "H-Hey!" He burst forward immediately. "_Andy_!"

As soon as he bounded over, skidding to a stop as she turned in shock to gawk at him, he wheezed before he blurted out quickly, "Before you say anything, I"m _so_ sorry!"

Instantly, she swung a punch for his shoulder. The Harrier cried out in alarm whilst dodging swiftly, watching wide-eyed as she drew her hand back and glared at him. "Yaa gaott expraaining ta dao!" she spat out lowly in her croaky voice and he frowned in response. "Rleaaving meh aoutt ta drly leike aahn aegg aon the windshierld aon aah haott Summerr Daay-"

"I said, _I'm sorry_," he countered in annoyance and scowled back. "Didn't you hear that!?" He crossed his arms as he pointedly tilted his head.

"Teh-" She threw her head up, looking upwards as she groaned back, "_Laoud_ aahnd _crleaarr_…" She sharply jabbed a finger towards him. "Bauutt thaatt daons't exceuse yaa flaom ditching meh. Yaaw'rre aah _leaarl_ shitt- _yaa_ heaarr meh?"

He grimaced, holding his hands up and showed his palms to her defensively. "I know, I know-" he grumbled as he rolled his eyes. "I ran into complications and got snagged by that batshit coot-" He pointed his fingers at her sharply. "Do you _really_ think I would plan for that?"

She shook her head, sighing irritably, "AI geuess naott…" Her amber-brown eyes regarded him coolly as she crossed her arms loosely. "Yaa shaourld be rluckee aI mett aup with Jimmee, aorr everleething waourld haave gaone ta shitt."

At those last few words, the Harrier dropped his arms and gasped in concern, "Did something happen?"

The Harrier was aware of the Support that was tagging along with him finally joined him, then he noticed another Support who was lanky approached with three other Reapers who were Support as well… Okay, this was just going to disorientate him. With five Support Reapers present, the Harrier knew he wouldn't be able to mentally keep track of who was who unless they took turns to introduce themselves or had their hoodies magically change colour.

"I reckon you came at a better time than later, mate." Finally! The Harrier turned his head to the lanky Reaper- Jimmy, he reminded himself- who shook his head. "I think I got your message out all good, but we had a mare of a time passin' it out."

Ooh… that problem was a definite sore thumb.

"How so?" the Harrier asked coolly, albeit his nerves being stabbed at the thought of _what_ went wrong.

"There wasn't enough information to go off by," gruffly replied a Reaper behind Jimmy, his deep timbre spooking the Harrier briefly. It was a second or two later he regarded the fact that this could be one of Jimmy's friends he mentioned having... "Not to mention we came onto the scene when people started to bounce."

"People asked us to scribble out 'eir signatures," explained Jimmy quietly, like he was hoping the Harrier wouldn't hear him say that.

The Harrier gaped in horror as Andy brought out the notebook and gloomily turned pages until the Harrier was met with the devastating sight of ugly scours of pen striking out various Kanji. Shaking his head, the Harrier felt small as an icy grasp clutched his heart, refusing to believe this had happened in his absence. How could their supporters for their cause give up on it so fast if he wasn't at the reins of the operation for a fucking, damn Week!? This was exactly was he was afraid of, but to actually see the ravages of their signature list with his own eyes...

"H-How many-" he breathed out uselessly. He quivered briefly before he cried out desperately, "Who didn't opt out!?"

Jimmy withdrew and took the notebook away from Andy as if the Harrier cleanly slapped his friend's own hands. With a brief glance to the Harrier who kept staring at him anxiously, the lanky male then tucked the notebook close to his face as he started to bob his finger to it.

The Harrier felt his focus drift to the Support behind himself who shifted uncomfortably; Andy had a dark look in her gaze as she gritted her teeth; the Supports behind Jimmy didn't even speak again-

Barely holding back his anger, the Harrier's voice rose as he choked out, "H-How could this happen!?" He shakily breathed, wanting to pace but the Reapers around him were huddled too close and the Harrier suddenly felt as if he was suffocating in front of them. "Th-This wasn't a joke- D-Did they think it was a j-joke!? A fucking f-_farce_!?" he managed to get out incredulously as he glanced at the Reapers fretfully.

He soon swept a trembling hand past his hood to his nape, squishing it firmly but not enough to hurt himself as his head spun. A cold realization settled in his chest, leaving him nearly swaying from lightheadedness as he gasped out, "W-Was it me!? S-Seeing me on damn standby all Week long with crummy handlers fucking guarding me!?"

Suddenly, Andy's hands were on his shoulders, making the Harrier jolt and panic as the female Reaper said in a levelled yet edged tone, "Yaa haave ta naott _paanic_ faolr taalrnaatchuaon's saake!" The Harrier gulped albeit breathlessly and felt dazed before his friend went on, "The aones whao reftt jaust haad stteupid exceuses aahnd werre jaust ein eit folr the baandwaagaon!" She shook his shoulders briefly, grounding him enough to make note of how he felt like a ragdoll under her hold. "We _sttirl_ gaott peoapurl-"

Her gaze left him. "Haow maany waas thaat aahgaain, Jimmee?"

Jimmy's voice spoke up, "Somethin' like fourty-"

"Saomething leike _faortee_!" she hissed irritably as her amber-brown eyes shot back to the Harrier as she tightened her grip, gazing deeply towards his hood while not having to even worry about meeting his gaze. The Harrier could already feel the intensity of her molten eyes that sharply taunted him to make a counterclaim, but he held his tongue and chose to numbly listen instead. "We trlied ta find aahneeaone whao signed aourr petteittchun, we'rre _sttirl_ looking, but know that the cause, sttirl, matters!" She stopped before her gaze darkened; her lips became pinched. "Purl yaaself tagetherr befaorre aI srlaap yaa sirlee auntirl yaaw'rre leike aah dlaunk maan ein aah baumpurr caarr!"

"O-Okay…" he breathed out quietly, finding it hard to nod and swallow before she actually released him.

As he stood on his own again, he inhaled unsteadily before he rasped out as intently as he could, "W-We're going to have to find others if we even want to rotate the posh bastard's head our way, because-" He grimaced, scowling slightly as he took a moment to clear his throat before asking Jimmy sternly, "How many _exactly_?"

"Fourty-five… fourty-seven? Somethin' in the forties..." Jimmy passed over the notebook soon after. The Harrier was thankful as he began to scan the page himself and crunched the numbers carefully. "I don't even know how many Reapers there are, but that's around two classrooms if I haven't stuffed up."

Andy suddenly flinched. "Mightt be betterr eif aI dao thaatt-" She edged closer to the Harrier suddenly to hover beside him. "Saaving yaawrr strlength folr taarlking eis betterr thaan daoing the daumb maatth yaawrrserlf!"

"Oh please," the Harrier scoffed as he paused in his reading, quirking an eyebrow as he smiled coolly. "It'll only take a second."

He backed away when Andy tried swiping the notebook away, frowning in annoyance and wondered in alarm why she was acting weird. He felt a pang of irritation when he realized he had lost count because of Andy, throwing a peeved look to her before restarting.

When he finished, he soon found that the number of entries continued over to the next page. He concentrated on the number he crunched as he turned the page to-

The Harrier no longer focused on the buzz of conversations around him.

He was hardly able to tear his gaze away from the many scratched out newer Kanji and the little notes beside each entry... He could feel himself shaking his head yet his gaze remained fixed on the page as a numbness alike anything he felt before slowly wormed into him at what he was reading. The more he read, the more it started to surge throughout his whole body...

Some were crossed out because they were doing it for fun.

Some were tired of waiting around for no results that they weren't sure would return.

Some mentioned how… oh _gods_… Some were about how they thought he was just being an attention whore! He wasn't giving a speech out because he wanted to hog attention to himself- What was wrong with these people!? Why would they think he was an _attention whore_!? And-

His breath hitched.

**Just fucking around with us.**

**What a moron.**

**Empty words.**

**Medachitagariya.**

**Ichibiri.**

**Asshole.**

**Kusoyaro.**

**Sicko.**

**Sick-minded.**

**Pathetic.**

**Lame.**

**Weak.**

**Sickly.**

**Delusional.**

**Dumb fucker.**

**Spoiled brat.**

**Doesn't know what he's talking about.**

**Not worth the time.**

**Nobody asked for this.**

**Why do you-**

**we-**

**you-**

**think we care?**

Was Andy trying to mess with him by not telling him this…?

Deciding to recount the remaining signatures that remained valid, despite struggling to bring himself to not look at the insults, he remained deathly quiet and couldn't help but stay aware of the ache in his heart. His heart just _hurt_... He could hardly keep his hands on the notebook because they suddenly were clammy and fidgety and-

Rapidly skimming the rest of the entries, he shut the notebook with more force than was necessary before shoving it into Andy's previously ready hands. The Harrier then choked out in disbelief and dread, "_Fourty-three_…" All voices ceased to continue amongst themselves when he had spoken, and in his dazed, foggy-minded state, he hissed out, "W-We had so _many_ before- But now-" He felt faint, pushing a hand against his forehead at once. He exhaled harshly before he mumbled, "Th-This can't be happening…"

Twenty-five people left… Nearly half of those who were interested in Recruiting were lying to him when they were smiling right in his face to sign the notebook…

He felt himself laughing… it sounded ugly; it sounded harsh and unnatural. He clenched his eyes closed, shaking his head as he murmured soon, "H-How could I be stupid…?" He felt his body shudder. "H-How could I be _so_ stupid…?" Another laugh bubbled out from his lips, as ugly and broken as the ones before, "I-I think I'm going to j-just sit down."

His body plummeted.

Hands scratched and clawed as they dusted his black sleeves, soon aware of how painful it was when he was half-slouched forward and half-resting on his right knee entirely while his left splayed out uselessly. He gritted his teeth as his ears buzzed, hearing them ringing as he clenched his hands so hard he knew he was puncturing his palms with his nails.

Even as he remained on the wet cement, he felt his lips twist upwards in an unsteady grin as he whispered out, "Wh-What am I even _doing_…?"

His chest kept aching, building as he shallowly breathed in and out. His lungs kept protesting for more air yet he didn't even know if he could inhale more oxygen… He was already suffocating from what he read- what the posh bastard and Sadist Saiyama kept taunting him with- being trapped in the stupid Barracks as his cause died unbeknownst to him…

The Harrier didn't want to give up… yet everything was going against him.

It was maddening… how as soon as he was preparing himself to act on his goals, everything- anything that could have possibly retaliated went full throttle. Maybe the universe was trying to fight back because it knew it didn't want him to follow his dreams- Maybe this was a nightmare he failed to comprehend he was in; placing him in limbo to suffer as if he was a _dirty_ sinner who deserved to be tortured for all of eternity-

Everything- _everything_\- any-fucking-damn-thing never went right for him! Can't he have one allowance in this shithole!? _One_ damn thing to turn out in his favour instead of stabbing him in the chest!?

Why!?

_Why_!?

WHY!?

His chest _hurt_ so badly!

Why did his heart _hurt_ so badly!?

He opened his mouth, trying to call out only to release feeble, whimpering sounds.

_Pathetic_...

Like _he_ was.

What was going on…!?

His heart just hurt so… _so_… much…

...He could hear a violin.

Why was someone playing a violin…?

It sounded off.

Sounded like a string was missing.

Why would he know that?

The absence was apparent, as each note played beautifully until one of the notes skipped for some reason…

Kept skipping.

Skipping.

Skipping…

...Nothing wrong with that.

Didn't sound perfect.

But there was nothing wrong with that…

Why would the violinist keeping bowing if they knew one of their violin's strings snapped?

...Sounds nice though…

He was aware of an ache.

...Didn't matter.

The violin was pleasant to listen to.

It kept skipping.

Kept skipping.

Skipping.

Skipping…

That one note.

No matter.

It was just one note.

* * *

His eyes fluttered open, only to gasp out deeply before harshly coughing. He felt like he was choking until he found himself breathing normally, his blurry vision flickering before he blearily could make out a blanket. Blinking, he rubbed a thumb along it tiredly yet curiously, soon noting it was one of those scratchy blankets they had back at the Barracks.

The Harrier's expression screwed up, suddenly becoming well aware he was in his shitty bunk… in the stupid Barracks.

Instantly, he started and hauled himself up abruptly. He heavily leaned on his headboard as he anxiously whipped his head around in disbelief.

Everyone else was sleeping.

**'...How the hell did I get back here!?' **he thought appalled, shaking his head as he breathed faster when he was aware of how dark it was. Gulping and releasing a strangled gasp at the same time, he couldn't help but throw his blanket against the wall, scramble himself to the edge of his bed to shoot his legs down to the ground, then ripped his knapsack out from under the bed.

He wasted no time in hurrying towards the hallway, feeling his breaths simultaneously accelerate and decelerate dangerously fast as he flew across the floor. The Harrier couldn't tell which way he was going- just continuing to bolt forward until he met a wall, rebounding to the ground with a strangled cry. He clenched his eyes shut, tensing as the pain waved through his spine and variously hit the rest of his body, inhaling so shallowly and so fast while the throbbing didn't go away.

"What was _that_ for!?" boomed an exasperated voice as the Harrier shook his head. Not now- not now- "Look where you're _going_, you…"

The Harrier risked a glance up, only to gawk in horror and swear loudly in despair. "Why the fuck won't you leave me _alone_!?"

"Oh. It's you," the old man intoned flatly, proceeding to grumble something under his breath. The man suddenly lurched down, confusion and surprise evident across his whole face as he growled out, "What's the matter? You seem like you've seen a ghost…"

The Harrier pushed himself backwards, clutching onto his knapsack almost for dear life as he kept scooting himself away from the man trying to get closer to him. When his back met a wall, the Harrier raggedly breathed in and out in a trice as he widely stared at the man, shuddering as he pressed against the wall harder.

"Stay… _back_," he warned lowly, glowering as hard as he could. Even as he kept his gaze on the sadist, he couldn't help but feel as if he looked more like a cornered animal; nowhere close to being intimidating despite his effort. "I-I swear- _stay back_! I-I'm _warning_ you!"

Suddenly, the sadist rose to stand at his full height, giving him a baffled yet wary look. "Whatever happened to you... " he sighed, shaking his head before frowning hard. "Want to talk about it?"

"_No_." The Harrier shook his head slowly, placing a hand on his head as a laugh bubbled out. "Oh fuck… this is such a crazy dream!" He gestured to the man then back to himself as he laughed harder. "Why the fuck not!? Might as well get it out of my systems before I wake up!" He tucked his head, gasping in air before he mumbled to himself, "A-At least… I can let off steam somehow without worrying about the consequences-"

He looked back with a beam. "R-Right? All of this shit happening to me has just been one big, fat, _nightmare_! R-Right!?"

The man eyed him suspiciously, pursing his lips as the Harrier babbled on, "To think… everything seemed to be turning out fine and dandy by the end of it." He blinked, his body giving a shudder as he closed his eyes, feeling tears gushing down his cheeks as he chuckled, "Nothing goes right for me.. n-nothing _ever_ has. I thought staying here would give me a peace of mind- something to look forward to because I wouldn't have to go back." His voice cracked near the end of his sentence.

He sniffled, not caring about crying in front of this stupid behamoth because this was just a stupid fever dream! "I was just outside- _just_ outside when I think I realized I'm not supposed to be happy. I'm just a court jester to everyone in this shithole, aren't I?"

The man didn't reply.

Murky eyes continued to watch him carefully as the Harrier opened his eyes, raising his arms up. "I'm the fucker who is the scum of the Underground! No one to see here!" He flopped his arms to loosely slump across his ochre knapsack, leaning his chest on it for support as he went on, "All I'm good for is being the posh bastard's punching bag… Lecture after lecture, punishment after punishment... " He let his head land on his bag, pressing his cheek into it and felt it roughly rub against it. "I just _hate_ him… He's _such_ an asshole…"

"Same old news… feh," murmured the old man in a heavy tone. "So what happened outside?"

"Freedom," the younger Reaper remarked, feeling miserableness settle in his chest. "Before reality slapped me to the ground. Or- whatever goes on in a dream for a reality."

"No, seriously-" The burly Reaper huffed gruffly before he asked sternly, "What _happened_ outside?"

"Looked for Andy to apologize for ditching her…" mumbled the Harrier, hearing a hum in response before he sighed sadly, "People backed out of our petition… All of those excuses why they did just… h-_hurt_." He inhaled sharply, feeling a tinge of familiar pressure localizing in his chest before he breathed out shakily, "I-I couldn't br-breathe… T-Too much pain in my heart…" He blinked, smiling bitterly as he added gently, "Then someone was playing a violin… It was beautiful for some reason…"

He went silent, wanting to see if this dream-sadist would bulldoze what he was trying to say when the man grunted, "For some reason?"

"Violins are sad," replied the Reaper matter-of-factly, grimacing as he tried to remember how the tune went. "The sounds they make are always sad, I mean."

"What makes you think they're sad?"

The Reaper sighed at that, "It's not a matter of why I think they're sad." He then scoffed in annoyance, "They just are."

"When was the last time you've heard a violin?"

"My father's funeral," replied the Harrier simply, regretting it soon after when he clenched his eyes shut. "It's torture on the ears to sit through,_ trust me_…"

"...When was the first time you heard a violin?"

"A theatre performance I went to as a kid," replied the Harrier tiredly, giving a yawn as he mumbled out a few seconds later, "I don't know why... but it seemed like father always thought I liked the violin music the best. Said I would hum along to it happily." The Harrier bit his lip, twitching his lips around in thought before he closed his eyes again. "Dun dun-dun dunn. Dun duh-dun-dun duh."

"Uh-huh…" intoned the other Reaper with a grunt. Suddenly, the Harrier watched as the burly man was doing weird gestures, screwing up his face in confusion as he watched how intense the old man's expression became. Soon it was just a death-glare that pointed past the Harrier's head, which the Harrier ignored.

When the older man looked down at the Harrier again, the sadist grunted, "Why were you trying to tackle me earlier?"

Blinking lazily, the Harrier took a few moments to try to recall what he was feeling at that time before he sighed, "Thought I was still outside… No, wait-" He grimaced, raising his head as he sighed wearily this time, "I didn't realize I was still dreaming so I must have panicked. No wait- wait- wait..." He gritted his teeth, pressing a hand to his head as he tried to think harder about it before he blubbered more wrong answers to the dream-sadist. "T-Too dark."

"What?" The burly man grimaced.

The Harrier placed his hands over his face, spreading them completely over it as he groaned in nervousness, "The room… it's always too dark. Wh-When it's very late."

"Too dark…?" echoed Sadist Saiyama thoughtfully, his (wow, never noticed how thick they were) eyebrows pulled together and his lips pressed downwards to become an ugly frown. "So you're telling me… you're scared of the dark?"

The Harrier would have responded to that immediately had he not backpedalled mentally for a moment. He eyed the man carefully, blinking whenever the edges of his vision went bleary, as he soon decided on how to phrase this in a way that didn't make it sound like the Harrier was lame.

"Y-Yeah… like I'll never get out." He blinked quickly as his face went pale, gaping in horror as he frantically cried out, "N-Not like it's a childhood fear or anything- j-just because th-the damn Cherry-" He widened his eyes, stiffling a scream in his throat to strangle it as he soon shouted out as cheerfully as he could muster, "Who doesn't _love_ Cherries!?"

Slowly, the Harrier rested his body against his knapsack again, feeling self-conscious suddenly that he literally said that out-loud. Exhaustion flushed through his body as he let his weight sit on the bag, frowning to himself as the old man growled out, "What do you do to cope with being in a dark room? Ram into people?"

Words escaped the Harrier, leaving him to flail mentally about as he tried to work his brain to make a good excuse for that. Dream Sadist Saiyama or realm of the awake Sadist Saiyama… the Harrier didn't want to go too much in depth about the topic. Not when it bothered him so much- haunted him so much- making him remember how helpless he was trapped under the hood of that damn Cherry…

He shook his head when he realized he was about to doze off, grimacing about the fact that his body was betraying him when he shouldn't appear weak and pathetic in front of this dream-sadist. It was the last thing he wanted to happen right now…

A sigh sounded from the army man, "Why don't you ever sleep…? It's clearly messing with your brain."

"Excuse me, but I sleep well," he snippily told the old man, sniffing before he went on grumpily, "Why I'm telling this to a Dream Sadist Saiyama… must be one of my wildest dreams…"

"Well, at least I can say it isn't one of my wildest dreams. Being with a spoiled brat," grunted the burly man as he yawned, shaking his head. "Just go back to bed, get some proper shuteye and maybe you won't be so loopy tomorrow."

"Hah, hah, _hah_!" The Harrier smirked weakly, waving his finger at the man as he snarked quietly, "I'm already asleep, so I won't be seeing you tomorrow! My nightmare will be over, you and I will still be tossing insults... and you might actually crush my chest like you almost had in this dream!"

Sadist Saiyama stiffened when the Harrier said the last part, his eyes darkening as he muttered something under his breath before lumbering off. Grinning to himself, the Harrier hummed a victory tune before he closed his eyes, content on the fact that this was going to be all over soon.

After all, it was just a dream...

* * *

Waking up to noise penetrating his senses, the Harrier grumbled as he refused to open his eyes. He began pawing for his towel-like blanket, slowly becoming aware of how much his back twinged and his neck was so, so damn stiff… He wiggled his shoulder blades, hoping to stretch his wings so they wouldn't hurt so-

Widening his eyes, the Harrier realized his wings were still absent.

The Harrier inwardly cursed. **'**_**Dammit**_**\- wasn't a nightmare!'**

As he made note of how Reapers were passing by him, he slowly felt his heart region and tried to reason with himself that this was just his imagination he would believe this had been a dream. That he must have thought he'd spoken to Saiyama… when he was still sitting on the ground where the behemoth left him. Upon placing a hand on his forehead and bridge of his nose, he grimaced as he wondered if collapsing yesterday gave him a concussion... or some other form of head injury. Whatever it was... it definitely made him loopy about his circumstances if what the sadist said was true.

But that begged the question: _How_ did get to the Barracks?

Using the wall behind himself as support, he guided himself to his feet, frustrated when he swayed as he did so. His mind drew back to the fact that he had been panicking before he ended up in the Barracks, yet the Harrier couldn't help but feel unnerved he yet again fainted. He knew he did, but how could panicking draw out a fainting spell? He tried to recall more but all he got was a headache, simply chalking it up to stress going overboard with him.

Even so... he couldn't decide if accepting something so simple was a good enough explanation to be okay with.

Groaning as he rubbed his temples, he soon put his forehead on the wall and sighed. The Harrier decided it might be for the best if he went back to the Barracks to create a better conclusion from there.

After taking the time to peel himself off the grey wall, keeping his hand on it as he started to trudge, he watched as more and more Reapers went the other direction. Some kept turning their heads only to whisper to their companions, some shamelessly stared at him until they couldn't anymore and the majority of them just ignored him. He gritted his teeth, pretending to not notice as exhaustion tugged on the edges of his mind the further he went along. It wanted to slip into nothingness, and he had to catch himself when he stumbled once and awhile, but in spite of this, he kept going.

Eventually, he slowed to a stop, letting his weight slump against the nearby wall. **'Maybe I should just...'** His eyelids fluttered. **'Take a nap here...'**

The Harrier had no idea why he felt so drained... If he slept on the ground all night, wouldn't he not be fatigued? Not having to resort to basically hugging a wall to just get around the River? Whatever the case was, the wall shouldn't have been so inviting to rest on.

Before he knew it, something was patting his shoulder, causing him to groan out as he blinked groggily. He blinked more at the fact that some Harrier- that wasn't Andy- was trying to get his attention.

He squinted at them as they huffed before speaking, "String bean, do you honestly think that's healthy?"

"Wall's nice." He shrugged with his shoulder that wasn't on the wall so he wouldn't fall over. "Closer than Barracks."

She huffed, shaking her head... At least, he thought she was. "Are you or are you not on-duty today?" she asked firmly.

"Depends on if I find my friend," he replied again, not caring how sloppy and slurred his words were right now. "Guess Barracks is out of question..."

"Okay, you're definitely not going places when you can't properly speak to me," the female Harrier said none-too-gently but not too strictly, soon sighing slightly through her lips before her hood shifted. "If you really need to see them, I have a Psyche that could get some juice in you."

"Really?" He furrowed his eyebrows, frowning with surprise. "...Didn't think there could be Psyches like that."

"Pep Snack is rarely given out to Players, string bean." She gave a shrug before searching her right pants pocket, drawing out her hand to show him a red Pin with what looked to be melonpan on it. "But I guess you can just call it the breakfast of champions for us Reapers, since it's the closest thing we got to having local cuisine around these parts."

As if she sensed he needed a live demonstration, she conjured up a melonpan that fell into her other hand. With a mild smile, she raised it to him while putting the Pin away. "Take it."

"Th-Thank you..." he mumbled before reaching out, having it deposited into his hand promptly. He sluggishly drew it up to observe its muskmelon grooves in its yellowy-cream, meshed skin. And as he did so, he couldn't help but be fascinated at how Imagination could do such wonders as to create nourishment out of thin air.

It seemed the other Harrier was waiting on him to try it because as soon as he took a bite out of it, she nodded curtly in approval. "That's it. Make sure you eat it all, or you won't get the full benefits."

The Harrier kept munching until he gulped, nodding back. "I'll keep that in mind. Much thanks."

That was when she gave a firm smack to his shoulder before walking off, not offering more to say as he went to take another bite from the sweet bread.

As he kept chewing, he found he wasn't as tuckered out as he had been minutes ago, savouring the flavour as he kept tearing off its skin with his teeth. He couldn't help but be reminded of how one of his teachers, when he went to school as a kid, was fond of making them. However, he found it odd how something from so long ago could be remembered vividly, as though it wasn't fading from the recesses of his memories.

By the time he popped the last morsel onto his tongue, simply swallowing it, he couldn't help but agree with that Harrier. Already he felt as if he just woken up from a good dream, pushing off the wall before deciding with the generosity that regained his strength and energy, he should go meet up with Andy. And, knowing where any Reaper should be, not that they wanted to, he directed himself to the debriefing.

Although, before he even got to the Supports and Harriers' designated area to stand in, he sighed in relief less than two minutes in to walking to his destination. **'Ah-hah.'** He quickened his walking.** 'Found you.'**

As he came up to his friend, who was standing by her lonesome beside the fake elevator that teleported Reapers to the main level, he waited until she failed to notice him. He chose to fix that by clearing his throat before speaking, "Good morning." When she gave a yawn in response, he added in a whisper, "We got to talk later."

"Augh-huh…" she hummed lazily; blinking slowly as she rubbed at her eyes.

Deeming that she wouldn't hold a conscious interest until later on, he simply positioned himself beside her until she was ready to go to the debriefing. And as he did so, he felt a jittery sensation inside him make him feel the need to shift on the spot, letting his mind wander.

Today was the next Day; known to be Day One for the Underground denizens. While Reapers did their spiel with the new Players, it would give him and Andy a smokescreen to work under to undermine the negative reception they got for their cause… Not to mention, it would do them all good to group together the Reapers who were still loyal to the petition… He should have thought of that sooner, but Andy would know how these sorts of things worked. Was getting names the only step in this method, or was the Harrier expecting too much of what a petition entailed?

...The Harrier put a pause on that thought when he realized he left his knapsack in the Barracks.

After going through some options of what to do about that, he told himself after the debriefing he'll pick it up. Yet, as he focused on the fact that Andy didn't seem want to budge and kept yawning instead of hustling to the debriefing, he frowned. **'Andy usually isn't this tired...' **He'll just have to remind her where they were supposed to be... as much as he hated the many times he hated getting up every Day, just to stand for a long time until the posh bastard got enough of his beauty sleep in. Man, why couldn't they just set up a billboard or something so Reapers wouldn't have to 'bask' in the posh bastard's presence as if it was important to know that the posh bastard still existed?

"Aren't we going to the debriefing?" he asked in confusion finally, earning a half-attentive, half-bemused look from Andy. "Because you're not really moving, and-"

"Aahrleaadee haappened…" The Harrier froze at that. "Thaoughtt yaa wentt aon withaoutt meh…" she mumbled with a flimsy shrug, soon giving a rub at her eyes again. "Saorlee, gaueess aI herld aus aup."

The female Reaper pushed past him to turn to the 'elevator' while the Harrier furrowed his eyebrows at her instead of following her example. As he watched her hand was about to activate the Teleport trigger, she paused to turn and blink back. "Whaatt?"

"I-I passed out and never went…" he began nervously as he crossed his arms, frowning as he went on, "Just woke up a few minutes ago... actually." Andy tilted her head at that, which made him groan before he asked worriedly, "Didn't you wait up for me?"

"AI deed," she grumbled with a scowl. "Bauutt yaa neverr caame aoutt. Sao aI wentt aon thinking yaa welre waaitting folr meh aaht the debleifing."

"_No_." The Harrier glowered. "I would have waited on you." Shaking his head, he groused after scoffing, "You know I will wait outside the Barracks for you- we always go together every morning."

Andy immediately swapped her scowl for an uncomfortable frown, clueing him in on the fact that perhaps it wasn't the case apparently. By that, the Harrier meant it wasn't the case because he _had_ been absent for a Week to her knowledge.

The Harrier sighed before he murmured, "Look…" He grabbed onto his nape and was careful not to disturb his hood too much, settling to smooth out his tone to be level and reasonable while dealing with this. He knew that an upset barrage wouldn't be appropriate for the situation. "I'm not going to disappear on you again," he said quietly as he siphoned on the tense air between them. "I honestly thought I wouldn't be compromised like that, so I'll give you permission to stalk me if it makes you feel better."

It worried him when she remained silent, knowing that whatever she had decided was off-limits to him. It wasn't as simple as one may think to barter with Andy; if he screwed up, there was an equal probability of things going good or bad from here on out. It was a game of chance he hated being a part of... but it was an absolutely necessary one for him to trawl through.

When she finally exhaled out, with a slow shake of her head, Andy was soon crookedly smiling back at him. "Yaa sure yaa waantt meh ta dao _thaatt_?" She shrugged with heartedness as she snorted out in sleepy amusement, "'Caause aI think aI knaow yaa werl enaouf ta knaow yaa haatte taa much caompaanee eiyeing yaa leike aah caarlcaass sett aout forl vurttules taa nibbre aon."

"You're my friend, what's wrong with special allowances?" he asked with an arm shrug and a small chuckle, soon continuing on with a serious tone, "I just don't want to put you through that again, so it's the least I _can_ do."

"Theen whaatt's the maoustt?" she quipped with an eyebrow quirk.

"Well," he started in mild amusement as he closed his eyes. He smirked after a few seconds. "That's premium knowledge only one will know when they enter the stage of 'Best Friends for Life'..." He raised a hand palm up and frowned. "Or, of course... existence, in our case."

"Heh, then aI'rll keep sttaacking aup mah effaorrtts ta find aoutt!" she piped with a snicker and leaned over to start patting him on the back, which he allowed for now. He accepted that this was as much of a forgiveness he could receive from his friend as of the current moment; it was enough for him to be happy about.

Andy's hand left as she turned back to the 'elevator'. She yawned, most likely shaking off her sleepiness at this point so this was merely a precursor to her complete awareness, "Sao, yaa gao aahnd taake the leaaad…"

"I still need to get my bag first," he said as he turned his head back to the way he came from, starting to tread forward only to feel her hand almost grasp his wrist. The Harrier flinched away out of reach before he spun around to glance at his friend again, scowling as he frowned at the weird look he was receiving. "You know I don't like that," he scoffed irritably before he huffed, "What's the matter?"

Andy slowly approached him again. Her molten gaze appeared tentative and her mouth was agape as she breathed out quietly, "...Eitt's aon yaa baack."

He would have automatically shut down that comment if he hadn't come to realize she was right.

Stiffening, he ran a few of his fingers against a strap on the same side of his body lightly, letting them linger as he wondered how it got there… But it wasn't about wondering how it got there, just knowing he had it on himself when he could have sworn it was at the Barracks made him understand that he must have been more exhausted than his friend if he couldn't even notice this for himself. However, he literally felt almost fully awake after that Pep Snack Psyche, so there was _no_ reason for him to be fatigued to let this sort of thing slip by. And because of that, he couldn't help how much it bothered him...

Andy was patting his back earlier... How could he have it on him now? How could he have felt her fingers rap rhythmically against his clothed back if his knapsack was in the way?

Echoes of their previous conversation surrounding the knapsack made his head spin with lightheadedness, maybe even humiliation as his own words were thrown back at him in a self-inflicted lecture. How could he… not know this? How could he... feel her hand like that? It fundamentally _was_ impossible. He told Andy himself last... yes, last Week or more that he could tell when he had the knapsack weighing him down and killing his back. But knowing her hand was on his back... feeling the weight of it dusting upon each pat she had given... feeling the warmth from the mere contact...

A shudder shot through his spine.

Ducking his head bashfully, he ran through his fleeting thoughts for some kind of further explanation. And in the meantime, he found himself working his mouth uselessly. "I-I…" He stopped to release a groan as he was clenching his eyes tightly closed. "I don't even know how to begin with this."

While he swept a hand over the bridge of his nose and part of his forehead, he was aware of how close Andy was to him; barely hovering in front of him as he tried to gather himself together. When he finally took a look at her again, the dirty blonde was staring at him silently with her eyebrows knitted; her face almost neutral, yet it still clung to a smidgen of rightfully necessary concern.

...So it wasn't just him finding it was strange.

Andy usually became quiet like this- from what he observed during his time with her- when there was something that evoked none of her usual responses. It seldom happened, so the Harrier couldn't help but feel even more unnerved about the situation. Around these times, it was almost impossible to know what was on her mind. He couldn't tell if she was being insightful, confused or anything else... It gave him a horrible sense of forlorn that he couldn't decypher what was going on with her when it came to this kind of display.

It wasn't like the sadist's look he noticed a few days ago; his may have been unreadable but Andy's has always been unreadable. That is, unless she gave a little something away to clue him in on on what she was feeling. Why it bothered him… oh what would he give to know that right now.

When his slightly shorter, semi-tall friend sighed, it finally released him from his storm of uncertainty and discomfort.

He watched her smile crookedly. "Rett meh guess… Taarlk furlstt, wurlk nextt?"

Blinking at that, he couldn't be more relieved but slightly nodded with unease. "...That might be for the best."

She continued to smile at him; her expression turning milder, softer... "Aaightt."

* * *

This was a nice change of pace.

As a spiral of steam kissed his cheeks from his cup of ebony liquid, despite how he felt about the reason why they came to rest in a kissaten, he couldn't help but smile. He was pleased that Andy forgone the idea of izakayas for a more suitable location such as this. Even if the soft chatter of Realground citizens disturbed their privacy, a little pool from the storage of peace he thought was gone forever made him feel slightly better now.

Andy, as he peeked out from under his hood on the other end of the table, had an iced coffee. The only difference for this picture was that she hadn't even touched it as he had with his own beverage.

The air was thick and he could feel it as they sat in silence; the goal of being here wasn't going to be achieved. He experimentally scooped up a spoon and gingerly yet idily stirred the contents of his plain beverage for no good reason but to do something for the sake of doing something.

He couldn't wrap his brain around why the Realground couldn't offer him an out from the constant headache he was getting from being in the Underground… A kissaten such as this was the perfect location to relax in, yet, despite how he wanted to release the stress he held inside, it wasn't enough. The knowledge that they were here because of him and his problems made any of the pleasant air turn sour in his mouth at every inhale he gave... It hinted at him that if it weren't for him, they wouldn't be trying to find a secluded location for him to express his ill thoughts in to stop them from spinning round and round in his head, out of control-

It wasn't worth it… He didn't deserve this.

The Harrier would have had acted on the urge to get up and go outside for fresh air if he wasn't suffocating on those same thoughts right now. It put into perspective how he couldn't just reap this reward after a harrowing time; he could never be allowed this even though he was right here in this chair with his friend who was trying to make him feel better. It worked, but the effects still were being sullied by the fact that he couldn't enjoy this. He couldn't even flip off his stupid brain so he could forget why his existence was so _stupid_ right now...

He felt he had enough of their silence; if it lasted longer, he knew he would implode.

Breathing out slowly, it transformed into a murmur, "Sorry."

"Why aarre yaa saaying thaatt wheen yaa haave nao leaasaon ta?" Andy asked promptly as her gaze flickered to him. Her eyes half-closed and she frowned as she added with a huff, "Eif yaa need theis, yaa need eit."

He shrugged half-heartedly. "I guess you're right."

Drawing the spoon up and past the lips of the cup, ignoring how the ebony dribbled to the cusped portion and threatened to fall on the tablecloth, he jadedly slanted it up Andy's way. "It's just that…" Twiddling the top of spoon lazily at her for a little bit while trying to gather his thoughts, he stilled his brandished item soon and closed his eyes with a sigh, "I can't help but feel like the moment we've started trying to get what we've wanted approved, anything that hasn't stopped us before is now stepping into the pit to contend with us."

She blew a raspberry, waving her hand down before she grumbled, "Daon'tt terl meh yaaw'rre geiving aup wheen wee've jaustt sttaarrtted-"

"No!" he protested and stared at her anxiously, keeping his intent gaze on her amber-brown. "It's not that." Dropping the spoon a second later, he placed a hand over his face as the discarded utensil clanged quietly in the midst of the motion. The Harrier could feel his friend lean closer to him in response, disregarding that as he decided to continue on with the train of thought. "What I mean to say is that…" He shook his head, remaining quiet for a moment before groaning, "Have we just been doing this wrong? Have we been underestimating the factors around us and being too rash with pushing this at the wrong time?"

Andy simply exhaled deeply as he was about to say more, "Yaaw'rre geettting caord feett becaause aof the peetteitteion." He ceased any attempts to rationalize this and merely let his friend take over the conversation to say her bit. He lowered his hand and brought the other over to carefully, yet gradually, bring the cup close to his face. The Harrier didn't make himself take a sip, simply tilting his chin towards the cup to feel the warmth of the receding steam. "Aor aarre yaa gaoing ta finaahlry terl meh whaatt haappened laast Weeek?"

"To be completely frank with you," he mumbled into the cup, pausing for a little while before smiling bitterly and spoke again, "I've hardly had the chance to figure that out yet."

Andy immediately banged a clenched hand against the table, sharply turning her head away to scowl. "Thaatt's _sttuupeid_."

"I know." He frowned as he drew his head up, letting dry chuckles escape himself as he grumbled, "It wasn't even about what we do, he was keeping me against my will so I could rest up- but that's not the _worst_ part. He forced me to absorb Points he had kept in cold storage to fucking _screw_ with me." His friend let out a squawk of anger when he said that. "Then the _old man_ from before was hoping a few favours and threatening me to cease our work would win me over, which is just the dumbest _shit_ fools have pulled on me."

As Andy's eyes adopted a murderous glow, he sighed as he conceded his beverage to feel abandoned on one corner of the table. He rested his hands down and folded them together, feeling nothing but aloof. "On top of that… knowing we lost support is just the rotten icing on the cake sitting in the bottom of the dumpster, Andy." He placed his forehead against the top of his hands, not in the mood to adjust it as a dull ache started from how his bones pressed against his skin. Quite frankly, he welcomed it and felt even more drained than he had over a Week ago from losing his wings.

To finally return to feeling like shit instead of fighting against the two fools who were ruining his existence should have been a bonanza when all it did was hone in on the fact that he felt even smaller than before. He would have preferred someone punching him until he laid half-conscious on the streets, having no means of blacking out than having all this shit storm down on him.

"Raook, wee maay haave raostt saome, bauut thaatt eisn'tt the end!" Andy said with pep, yet he couldn't bother to get himself excited about that reminder. When she used the moment to take a gulp of her beverage, he felt her hand land on the back of his head and soon felt tiny pats. Her hand stilled as she spoke again, "Wee caourldn'tt find everreeaone whao signed aup, bauut aI knaow wee'rl gett whaatt wee waantt!"

"...Doesn't excuse the fact they gave godawful reasons for why they lost interest…" he mumbled drearily and couldn't give a damn that the weight of Andy's hand was making his head hurt more. After a few moments, Andy's hand left only for his eyes to widen partially as both of them slipped past his hood.

They gently contacted his cheeks and her smallest fingers hooked under his chin, slowly bringing his head up to face her. All he could do was slightly panic as his hood was disturbed during those actions. "A-Andy, what are you-" he started only for her to purse her lips and narrow her gaze, losing the words he was about to say when he realized how intense her expression was.

"Haow waourld yaa knaow whaatt theey taorld aus wheen yaa aonlree gaott baack yestterrdaay?" she suddenly asked suspiciously, her eyes dark as they flickered and met his gaze directly. Even when he was anxious about the chance of someone catching a glimpse of his face, the question only silenced those worries as thoughts anew sparked in his head and he gaped at her. "Deed yaa rlie aahbaoutt beeing therre aahll Weeek rlaong?"

"Wh-What are you talking about!?" he sputtered as he instantly grabbed her hands, pulling them off his face quickly. The Harrier couldn't help but feel guilty when she groaned out in pain as he clenched onto them hard. "I-I saw them!" he anxiously cried out and shook his head, his eyes widening while he fretfully added, "The notebook had them- you were trying to stop me from looking at it!"

The moment Andy's expression twisted into one of puzzlement, he couldn't help but stare at her numbly as he continued on, hearing his voice crack as he felt his heart speed up, "Forty-three! We have forty-three people left! I-I- Th-Then I ended up in the Barracks and I _don't_ know why!"

"Becaause wee wentt baack ta the Baarlaacks…?" Andy said slowly in an odd tone. He felt lightheaded immediately and shook his head wildly at that, soon watching her purse her lips and tilt her head. "Since yaa saaid yaa werlen'tt feerling werl...?"

"I-I did say that," he mumbled uneasily as he bashfully felt the need to adjust his hood. He released his friend's hands to toy with the fabric then tangled his fingers with his locks as his stomach churned. "B-But I-" Blinking slowly, something seamlessly had stolen his breath, leaving him feeling as if it decided to rub salt in his face for his attempt to continue by squeezing on his throat. His hands started to tremble, his body even shuddering as he tried to think back on what happened before he finally managed to choke out, "I-I _fainted_, Andy!"

The furrow of Andy's dark sandy eyebrows did nothing to calm his nerves as her face contorted. He waited on her response, knowing she would say something when all she did was frown deeply back at him; staying silent. Suddenly, he could hear the click of the clock from the back of the kissaten; footfalls all around him; chatter from faceless pedestrians; feel the glow of the lighting of the overhead lamps; the sound of Andy's breathing going in and out sharper than it should be. He inhaled unsteadily, feeling a spell of dizziness seep into him yet he still gazed at his friend desperately.

"...Show me the notebook," he had somehow said in a steady, levelled tone, feeling his expression tighten as he tried to work past the vertigo and focus on Andy. When she started with a blink, he frowned hard and knew his gaze had sharpened. "Please, Andy… I need to look at it."

Andy gave a grimace. "Aohkaay...?" She turned to lean over and started to unzip his knapsack. "Jaustt geive meh aah secaond…"

Forcing himself to try to control his breathing and not act recklessly, he removed his hands from his hair and patiently waited.

Maybe he was wrong to conclude that he wasn't actually dreaming... In the back of his mind, alarms were going off at the oddness of what Andy told him; something just didn't feel right to the Harrier. Wasn't dreams supposed to be unrealistic events strewn and warped because you couldn't control how your thoughts went rampant during your most vulnerable state? Because you shut yourself off from the conscious world you lived in? But this wasn't a dream- he knew it wasn't a dream… so was it the fatigue he experienced everyday? However, that didn't explain how him and Andy remembered the end of the Day differently, or why Andy was accusing him of lying to her and thinking he hadn't seen all of those terrible things people had said about him...

The Harrier, after mulling it over for a bit longer, cast those thoughts away. He shouldn't jump to any more conclusions until he had evidence in hand. After all, he had to focus on not doing anything rash right now.

When the notebook was put in the middle of the table, he wasted no time in opening it.

The Harrier carded through the flimsy pages until he happened upon the list of various Kanji again… noting how it was the same clean line of symbols. Blinking, he took a moment to brace himself before he finally bit the bullet and turned to the next section… which was a continuation of the clean line. He silently studied the crossed out Kanji then briefly shook uncontrollably, soon flipping through blank pages, hearing them all crinkle and sometimes hiss from ripping as his eyes searched and trained on each one.

He only stopped when he got to the back of the notebook, exhaling shakily before turning back to the initial start of the list to examine it again. After a heartbeat of flipping the page up and down a final time, he dropped it and removed his gaze to stare at Andy. "Where did they go?" he asked quietly, ignoring the slight hoarseness his tone had adopted.

The Harrier watched how Andy's expression twisted more and appeared completely lost. "...Wherre deed whaatt gao?" she asked back.

Straightaway, his heart sank as his eyes darted back to the list. He glowered hard at it as he gripped the notebook harder. "The comments."

"_Aoh_kaay," she then said as she slowly moved to lean against the back of her chair, frowning at him as her eyes reflected nothing but baffled molten pools. "Naow yaaw'rre jaust maaking nao sense."

Whipping his head down angrily, he narrowed his eyes as he spat out while jabbing an index finger into the page, "There were comments _insulting_ me and our cause, Andy! _Right here_!" He slammed the book shut, squeezing the black item firmly as he growled in exasperation, "I don't know how anyone could have erased pen, but I damn _know_ they were there!"

As Andy was about to open her mouth, he then shoved the notebook with both of his hands against the table as he abruptly leaned forward; sharply scowling at her. "Don't you remember!?" Andy didn't respond right away, staring at him wide-eyed as he slowly felt his frustration ebb; his heart sinking as horror started to worm itself in. "...Y-You don't…" he soon said quietly, shaking his head in disbelief as he mumbled the rest, "Remember…? Do you?"

She merely gave him a sad expression, lowering her eyes to the table as she sighed, "Nao, aI daon'tt."

It was then and there the Harrier drew back to rest in his seat again. He faintly felt as if a torrent of wind was blaring through his ears, or maybe blood was flooding out from them; blocking his hearing as he started to feel as if he was small. **'I-I… I know it happened,' **he thought to himself bleakly. **'Wh-Why doesn't Andy _remember_? She was there when I fell down- She was the one trying to stop me from reading them-' **He shook his head lightly.** 'What the fuck is going on here!?'**

As he tried to breathe in deeply to calm himself, he could feel himself shuddering and was woozy as fuck. "Th-This isn't a joke, Andy," he started again with a weak chuckle, trying to smile it off yet his lips stubbornly didn't connect with the motion. He laughed dryly, "I can't take anymore jokes right now, so could you _please_ just tell me the truth."

"Y-Yaa thinnk aI'm maaking this aup?" she chuckled the same way as him- humourless yet was incredulous- before glowering at him as she growled, "Becaause AI aain't jaoking aahlaound weith yaa…" Andy's expression hardened as she snarled, "Sao shuutt aup aahbaoutt meh lrying ta yaa wheen aI've beeen naotthing bautt haonestt!"

Before the Harrier could get a word in, he became aware of the fact that there were some onlookers from other sections of the kissaten. With a slight side-glance, the owner of the settlement was giving them an unhappy, peeved look.

**'...Inside voices. You need to use inside voices here, me,'** the Harrier thought to himself before he craned his neck towards the man; bowing his head. "We'll watch our volume, sir," he said apologetically in a mumble.

As the owner turned his back to them to get a mug from the shelves, the Harrier couldn't help but feel self-conscious now as he drew his attention back to his friend. He grimly reflected on the fact that Andy wasn't one to lie, yet he wanted so much to hold on to the notion that she was. Even if the interruption hadn't occurred, it still hit him that it wasn't right to accuse her like that. The only evidence he had was... nothing, so it was fair to say that there's a chance the insults weren't there yesterday...

Or, maybe, they weren't even there to begin with...

The Harrier eventually sighed, "...Sorry." He placed his head in his hands and felt guilt gush through him. A part of him tried to convince himself he was in the right and shouldn't feel bad about that, which came in the form of an imagery of someone ripping out the pages and copying all but the comments to screw with him. A horrible thought, to be frank, so he tried to block it out and focus on figuring this out.

"But I know the comments _were_ there," he started again but with misery, frowning against his hands as he went on, "I'm not imagining it..."

His friend crossed her arms in annoyance, eyeing him with her hardened gaze as she huffed, "Theen why wuorld yaa saay thaatt!?"

"Because the comments made me faint, _alright_!?" he snapped as he threw his head up and glared at her, gritting his teeth as he harshly inhaled and exhaled. He snarled while slamming down a hand against the notebook, "Something is fucking up with this! I _know_ it is, Andy! What it is, I fucking don't know- but I damn know for certain that this level of shit can't be from you _or_ me!" Taking a moment to catch his breath, he soon drew back his hand, darkly staring at her while grumbling lowly, "You _know_ I don't make stuff up."

"AI knaow." Her certain tone all but made his anger die down and cleared his brain from whirling out of control. When the dirty blonde shifted to readjust how she sat, she soon frowned as she asked in a quieter voice, "Deed saometthing haappen?"

Blinking warily at that, he soon frowned in confusion. "...What do you mean?"

Andy rested a cheek in one hand and propped the connected elbow on the table, placing her other arm down horizontally as her eyes grew stern. "Yaa saaid the Caounduuctaorr faolrced yaa ta taake Paointts," she responded; her lips went flat.

With a quick glance around them, taking note of how the owner was crossly watching them again, he soon sighed. "Yes," he mumbled with a shrug, frowning deeper as he put in softer, "But that doesn't explain me fainting and being the only one to see the comments."

"Nao, nao-" He barely had seconds before he was gripping the wrist of her hand that was about to cuff him on the side of his head. Sending a vexed look to her as she merely kept her now darkened gaze on him, he slowly released her hand before frowning disapprovingly. "Deed he dao aaheetthing erlse?" she asked with an eye-roll while readjusting herself again.

The Harrier blinked again after she said that. "Anything else?"

Andy promptly cocked her head and scowled with vex.

Grimacing slightly before dropping it, he slowly brought a hand up to his chin; wrapping his fingers around it as he narrowed his eyes in thought. "He…"

Rolling the question around, he tried to run through the instance he experienced last Week when he woke up in that bed again. To be fair, it was the only moment he had with the posh bastard other than having the clearance to be released back into the streets yesterday. With so much happening in that amount of time of trying to leave that unknown room, only to almost suffocate from Sadist Saiyama then end his time there by nearly 'attacking' the 'defenceless Conductor', it mostly entailed trying to leave whilst shutting out the words of both fools.

Man, he had a whole Week of being trapped in the Barracks, had all the time in the world to think... yet he could only remember the most juicy bits and pieces of that exact period of time. Although, he couldn't blame his brain for struggling to remember. To be frank, how could he when he was trying to slough off that-

His breath hitched.

"...They had an Imprinter come in," he finally responded coldly. Andy's eyes lit up with shock, which prompted him to explain while pondering about it, "Another one happened... so the posh bastard and sadist claimed they were 'helping' me by making an Imprinter do something to 'pull me out of it'." His eyebrows knitted. "If I remember it right."

"Sao yaaw'rre trlying ta saay…" Andy slurred as she furrowed her eyebrows.

The Harrier raised a finger in the air. "They could have had the Imprinter do more damage than they entailed." He frowned deeply as he glowered, clenching his hand when he put it back at his side. "I don't even want to rope myself into what those vultures fucking do, but what I do know is that they screw with a person's head. And while those fools may have played the innocent card on me, they must have done _something_ to me."

He raised his hand and placed it on his temple after uncurling his fingers. "Whatever it had been, it could be screwing with the progression of our cause. I don't know for sure what it was, but things have been weirding out for me." With his other hand, he opened the notebook again and stared long and hard at the side of the page with the less than filled page of the list. He traced the areas where he could have sworn were raked down with penned insults and belittling words aimed for him, gritting his teeth as he stopped his hand and growled, "That must be it."

Whipping his head up to Andy, he pursed his lips and coolly explained, "The posh bastard must have wanted to steer me away from completing what we're trying to do. So, being the bastard he is, he got someone to plant seeds in my brain to create false happenings. Whatever Imprints were used to make them, they're trying to deter me by stripping my confidence down to nothing because I'm the only one perceiving those happenings." He tapped the page as he rolled his eyes. "If I step out of line, my brain will place me back on it the longer I go against the grain he wants me to follow."

Andy gazed at him in a mixture of awe and horror after he finished speaking, smirking soon when he gave a dry string of laughter and shook his head. "Oh that man is a fool, Andy…" She blinked at that, grinning in return as he smiled coldly. "Thinking he could get away with this when I know better..." He tilted his head. "Isn't that cute?"

"Saounds leike yaa gaott aah plraan," she hummed proudly.

Trying to match Andy's grin, he gave a nod. "The Sadist must have told him about the pitch I made, so that limits our options to what we have on hand already."

He patted the notebook almost tenderly, soon starting to trail his hand up the page. "If he wants me to turn tail by screwing with my perception enough, who knows if we can do more to look for more supporters…" As he curled his index finger under the top of the page to hook onto the other side, he pushed the page up with his left and pressed it against the page in front of it. The Harrier then lifted his head and smiled slyly. "And if that's what he's trying to stop, then we will stop."

His friend gave him a baffled look before he carefully tugged at the top of the notebook page, listening to how it protested before he started to tear it towards himself. "You see, we may have thirty-five supporters, and I don't even know if getting names was all we had to do-"

"Eit is," Andy quickly replied.

Briefly halting, he grinned brightly. "Thank you." He returned his gaze to the notebook and continued ripping out the page again. "So basically… the only way to combat this is to deliver what we got before the Imprint makes me ruin it for us." When he whisked the freed paper into the air, watching it flap from the current he created, he soon waited for it to floppily hang from his hand before he dipped his head and murmured, "No more stalling. This is our shot and we _will_ take it."

Andy nodded eagerly, popping two thumbs up as she piped, "This eis why aI lreaave the plraanning ta yaa, mah sawheet buumpkein…" She soon crossed her arms, cocking her head as her eyes tenderly watched him. "Even eif yaa theink taa muuch."

The Harrier couldn't help but smirk, pulling his hood out of his face a little to lock gazes with her contently. "Then it's showtime, Andy."

* * *

They were making good time in their journey back to the Shibuya River, the Harrier felt, when they escaped the busy Scramble Crossing from Reaper-Player 'bonding time' to arrive at Hachiko's statue. The Harrier didn't see the point of stopping when they were so close, yet, as they were passing by the dog statue, he discovered that Andy may have begged to differ when he found she had halted entirely.

He ceased his stride to turn to her in confusion. "What's the matter?"

Andy's hooded-face whipped to him when she hissed, "Saomeaone's eis faorlraowing aus."

**'Following us, huh,'** he thought warily, immediately inhaling to steady his nerves. He glanced around the area without making it too obvious, using as little head movement as possible to do so. **'Well then, perhaps the posh bastard must have finally gotten his mutts to keep an eye on us.'**

Of course the despicable man would do such a thing; knowing the fact that him and Andy worked together was almost a guaranteed sign that they were hunting or amassing their kills for the Week after. This time, they weren't searching for their targets in either circumstance, but that didn't mean it wasn't a bad thing _if_ said vulture found out their plans...

**'I don't want them to sniff us out and contact the posh bastard before we act.' **He could feel himself clench his fists, resisting the telltale urge starting up inside him to freak out about this as he thought more, **'We have to somehow shake them off if we want to get Recruiting off the ground.'**

"Then let's switch gears and be the innocent souls we know we are," he returned cheekily and turned to the statue. He could feel Andy's gaze on him as he smiled small, keeping his gaze on the plaque of Hachiko and hoped he wouldn't have to elbow Andy to get her on board with the scene they had to paint. ...Not that he would hurt his friend, he just wanted to get this set up before they got their cover blown. **'**_**Come on**_**, Andy… get with the program!'**

As he felt her shift and siddle to flank him, he sighed mentally before he murmured, "Say, Andy… don't you just appreciate how even animals can make a difference in the world?"

He wasn't going to lie, he always liked the story of Hachiko as a child. The woman who raised him, however, thought the tradition to pet Hachiko was not worth his time so he didn't really get the chance to do it. That, unfortunately, carried itself into his teenage years when he was juggling his part-time job at the Gotorutsus' bodega with maintaining his damn perfect grades while caring for that woman. As a Reaper, he could do it now, but knowing that he could do it hurt after what he's been through to get that chance.

Gazing towards the sitting dog's eyes, he went on with a fond smile, "Sure, he didn't beat up criminals or stop floods, but you got to admire how pure loyalty goes a long way."

Andy, from the left side of his vision, side-glanced him uneasily from the corner of her hood. "...Eitt's aah daog sttaatue."

Blinking, the Harrier full-on turned to Andy and exclaimed incredulously, "Don't tell me you don't know who _Hachiko_ is!?"

The mustard-hooded Reaper shrugged noncommittally. "Sttaattue's aah doag, sao aah daog?"

...He'll have to teach her about Hachiko later, unless explaining the bittersweet yet heartwarming story still counted as 'innocent, average Reapers existing as usual here'. Either way, Andy _will_ know who this dog is if he has anything to say about it. In fact, why not kill the birds with the golden opportunity of using a stone now?

Clearing his throat, he placed a hand on his chest and pointed with his left hand. "For your information, this dear pooch is the most loyal, faithfullest creature to have breathed in Shibuya." He closed his eyes and went on matter-of-factly, "He waited for his master who went to work everyday on the train and Hachiko went home when Hachiko's master returned after work. Then one Day, his master died at work, but Hachiko didn't know about that. He kept waiting for his master to return, only appearing during the periods of time when his master should have returned from work and kept waiting for a long time."

Andy widened her eyes as she whipped her head back to the dog's commemoration. "Aahnd thaatt daog deedn'tt think the guy waasn'tt gaoing ta caome _baack_?"

The Harrier rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disappointment. "_Oh please_, Hachiko loved that man with all his heart and _of course_ Hachiko would think his master would come back one Day." He gestured to the distinguished canine and breathed sadly, "To have someone trust, and be so dedicated to you, must be nice to have… knowing that you can always count on them to be there for you…"

"Say, that reminds me of what your mate was doin' for you last Week."

Flinching, the Harrier whipped his head to the left then towards Andy before fully turning to see a lanky Support Reaper behind them. He mustered all sense of control he had in his body to not rocket himself into the statue, resulting in him raising an eyebrow before he soon remembered whose voice it was.

"Oh," he said in a note of calm, blinking as he sighed in relief, "It's just you."

"Heh, I reckon all of us wearin' similar uniforms makes it a mare on us," said Jimmy casually before stepping back, giving the Harrier and Andy space. Not to mention, it provided room for the Harrier to breathe without feeling as if he was being cornered against Hachiko's statue. "Although, I'm glad we're allowed to wear whatever footwear we can or we would all become twins."

Feeling himself become a little more at ease, the Harrier nodded. "I suppose that is true."

"It wouldn't be a piece of piss to find both of you if it was," added Jimmy as he crossed his arms, cocking his red-hooded head at the Harrier. The Harrier crossed his arms as well, furrowing his eyebrows as Jimmy chuckled, "Even if you did wear the Harrier pullover, it's mean you have your trainers and bag on hand to pick yourself out of any crowd as well."

**'...There's nothing wrong with my hoodie. ****I want to do my Harrier work comfortably****.' **The Harrier frowned as he dipped his head, unfolding his arms to pick at the black fabric. **'We're allowed to wear anything we want, and I even **_**cleared**_** it with the ****posh bastard**** the moment I agreed to become a Reaper.'**

The posh bastard was corny to have chosen the colours for the official uniforms: Red for Supports, yellow for Harriers and blue for Officers... Or, to his knowledge, Officers _were_ supposed to pay homage to the pseudo-primary colours, but he's never seen an Officer in a blue hoodie before, to be frank.

As for what he knew about his rank, Harriers apparently were allowed to wear different garments if they verified them with the posh bastard first, which he may have incidentally discovered, but it may have been due to the fact that the posh bastard was a stickler for properness and order. He probably was making sure any Reaper looked the best to represent themselves the best, clearly to show the Players which Reaper was which. Although, the Harrier couldn't help but think it was a nicer way of saying it was the only way to make themselves seem like faceless jerks to the Players.

And finally, for the Supports... they had to, without question, stick with the same bloody hoodies… Hah, how did it feel to be the face of Reapers at Walls if you were marked with the blood you may have worn from your blood loss? ...Okay, that actually wasn't funny.

"I mean, it's not a rubbish hooded pullover, it's just that it has a pong," Jimmy added as he rubbed the back of his head. "One wash will do so you don't smell like you were swimmin' in piss."

...Was the smell still that bad? Did the Harrier get used to the smell without realizing it!? Wait, why was Jimmy only mentioning this to him when Andy's hoodie smells as well?

The Harrier grimaced as he laid those questions to rest. "I would, but you see…" He picked at the fabric and held it between his fingers. "It's the only clothes I got and I'm not a fan of yellow."

"Whaatt's wlaong with yerraow?" asked Andy as she gave him an odd look. "Mah haairr's aah braonde, aahnd daon'tt peaopurl caonsiderr thaatt aah yerraow?"

"Not the colour itself, just the fact that wearing it will constantly make me feel like I'm wearing a completely stained mustard shirt," returned the Harrier with a harder grimace, giving a shoulder shrug after a short moment. "Stains don't come out easily, and I'll just leave it at that."

...Hell if he'll give the reason why.

He lowered his head, trying to push away the thoughts that tried to invade his mind as he listened to Jimmy instead. "I mean, if you wanted, I could even wash for you and bring it back?" Jimmy said before he rubbed at his hood-covered nape. "Unless you wanted to crash there until it's home and hosed, is all I'm tryin' to say."

Blinking at the lanky Support, the Harrier couldn't help but tilt his head in disbelief as he breathed, "That's very generous, but what's in it for you?"

"Me?" Jimmy pointed towards himself, his head shook lightly before he spoke again, "I just thought you might want to smell better since I know you crash at the Barracks, and I feel like you haven't had a fair go of washin' it for yonks."

Huh… the Harrier couldn't detect a single amount of false information streaming from his lips, unless Jimmy was the type to play naturally innocent. A part of him was already shrugging off the thought like an unnecessary overcoat for the Summer Days, knowing that Jimmy hadn't given him a reason to doubt him yet, so there was no need to point fingers for no reason.

"Fair enough," said the Harrier with a nod, relaxing slightly as he regarded how the tension from Jimmy's body lessened as well. It was probably from the fact that an offer being given only for the hand to nearly get bitten was disorientating if it was in fact genuine.

The Harrier shifted as he crossed his arms when coolly murmuring, "We were about to go present our proposal when you joined us, but I suppose smelling like piss wouldn't bode well for our cause, now that I think about it. After all, presenting ourselves at our best grants better rewards than a participation prize." He dipped his head afterward. "Thank you, we appreciate your offer."

"Oh, for sure, mate," responded Jimmy with a lighthearted chuckle, soon shaking his head. "Just thought I'd put it out there since I'm all good payin' a little ow extra for water this month. Better look beaut and not pong, eh?"

"So you mean to say you do got a place to live," murmured the Harrier and got a nod, shifting slightly as he frowned. "With what we do, that must be expensive for you to maintain, and I couldn't have imagined the posh bastard would have let you do that."

"That stink fulla took yonks to convince, and yeah, it's hard out dear," explained Jimmy mildly with a well-mannered shrug. "So it's not like I can get those fancy trainers of yours right now."

"What about my shoes...?" he asked carefully, knitting his eyebrows slightly.

"For somethin' so cracker, 'ey're dear trainers," simply replied Jimmy with a bit of a laughter. "Seen 'em in some shops, yet I can't seem to find 'em when I got enough money on me."

"Oh! Yes- yes," he sputtered out into sheepish laughter. He chuckled a little after as he nodded in acknowledgement, casting a look down at the object of their discussion when he murmured breathily, "They're one of a kind, aren't they?"

"_Keen_, _keen_\- how did you even get your hands on 'em?" The Support's hood shifted all too quickly to face the other male Reaper, who couldn't help but smile back contently from how excited Jimmy appeared. Well, in that case, it was hard not to oblige the request, he believed, to share what he knew. Why? Well, he already felt as if he had an affinity with the Support. It wasn't just from their supposed agreement they didn't like the Conductor, it was from Jimmy's own flashy white-and-black, thicker yet jagged striped trainers. A good second option from Tigres, he might add, when one couldn't get their hands on the Harrier's shoes. That alone cemented the Harrier's belief they had something in common... and when you have something in common with a person, you had a chance for a clique to be created with said person. And by all means, he felt their mutual taste in Brands had the potential to build great rapport with each other... not to mention, even friendship.

Grinning now, the Harrier nodded. "Well, they're Ligres, for your information," started the Harrier proudly, jutting out a foot for good measure. He watched Jimmy bend down to examine the loopy-striped shoes while he continued to explain, "It was a joint effort between Pegaso and Tigres a few years ago for some event. I guess they expected premium demand, so they limited their supply in hopes to get their filthy paws on as much Yen as they could between the two Brands. And, as you may guess, when Ligres came out they were expensive as shit... but I just couldn't help but love the design, you know? So... I got them." He gave a shrug shortly after he was finished speaking.

"But 'ey're still in shops," noted Jimmy in wonder. "How was the supply limited?"

Placing his foot down, the Harrier let out a breathy chuckle, "Didn't get them when they cost you your arms and legs." He crossed his arms as he added in amusement, "They slimmed down the price enough when I happened to need new shoes, so it was a happy coincidence that I swiped my pair before inflation set in." He rocked on his toes a little before he mused, "I'd say it was... a year or two ago."

"_Sweet as_," hummed Jimmy in awe, soon glancing back with a nod as he sighed wistfully, "You can only be rapt with choice stripes like that… Might be lucky now to get 'em at an op shops if 'ey're not munted."

"In that case..." The Harrier said before he started wiggling his arms out, swinging his knapsack down and crouched low to access it. As he started unzipping it, he kept his gaze on his knapsack as he mumbled, "How much are they now?"

Jimmy, from what he could feel, remained still in place. "...Y-You don't have to do a shout for me."

"No, no, I insist." The Harrier waved a hand before starting to tug out Yen Pins distractedly. "How much?"

For a while, the Harrier waited as he continued drawing them out, mentally crunching how much he had in his grasp until Jimmy murmured, "You sure?"

"Yu_p_." The Harrier nodded while quietly popping the 'p'.

Jimmy took a bit longer before he breathed reluctantly, "...24,520 Yen."

"A bit more than before, huh? Okay, let me see..." The Harrier sifted through his bag, dishing out more Yen Pins into his grasp until he finally raised his head and gazed at Jimmy. "I got about..." He crunched the numbers again before he went on mindfully, "Got about 25,000 here, but you can keep the change."

"H-How did you get so much?" breathed Jimmy in disbelief as he all but didn't move to take them.

The Harrier let out a gusty chuckle before he smirked. "I usually don't get the urge to get anything for myself, so I just carry it around until I see fit I need something." He shook his cupped hands, tilting his head. "Come on... it'll help me not break my back, if it makes you feel better. So for your information, you'll be doing me a favour." He tilted his head the other way in thought. "Or... you could accept this as compensation for doing us a solid, Jimmy." The Harrier did a quick shoulder shrug before he smiled. "Your call."

It was a moment or two later that Jimmy undid the clasps of his bag, gradually spooning each Yen Pin in, before he exhaled out in awe, "Ta."

"Anytime," the Harrier returned mildly before closing the pockets and slinging his knapsack back on. "Just make sure you don't let anyone swindle more from you when you get them."

After Jimmy nodded, he closed his own bag silently.

As the Harrier made note of how the conversation was dying, he couldn't help but ask the question that had been lingering on his mind. "New topic, but… might I ask where you came from?" He finally stood up as he spoke. "I couldn't help but notice your accent."

The Support shrugged; his hands separating from fiddling with his standard shoulder-strap Support bag. "Born and raised in New Zealand." His tone was plain and simple; giving nothing but the hard facts as if the answer was clear as day. "Shifted out here and made some mates before I was pushing up daisies." He promptly tilted his head. "Am I not makin' sense to you?"

"I'm following along, but some terms are new to me," mentioned the Harrier calmly. He shook his head as he gave a shrug of his own. "You're the first person I've met from there."

"No worries," replied Jimmy with a slight chuckle. "I would only be knackered by the time I meet someone who has." Jimmy paused for a bit after he was done before he asked, "So… wager you're interested in gettin' that pullover washed up all good now?"

Turning his head to Andy when she came closer, she shrugged as well. "Yaa waantted ta haurree, lightt?" she asked as she lowered her hood, frowning as her gaze flitted in the direction they had been set on going before. "Rlightt?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, I did," murmured the Harrier before facing the Support Reaper again. He held out a hand. "Thank you for offering us the help again, Jimmy."

The Support dipped his head and chuckled, grabbing onto the Harrier's hand, "But of course, mate. Let's bowl round there."

* * *

It didn't take too long until Jimmy had led them to a small eggshell-coloured building in the Shibukyu district; one where there were steps leading downwards to one door and another leading up to the door Jimmy chose to walk to.

Huh, it was funny, at least to the Harrier, that there were residential buildings here. This was mostly a place where shops were set up and sold away to new Brands that would come and go frequently, with only a choice few staying because they managed to fight hard enough to establish a place in the hearts of Shibuya's shoppers. He snuck a glance around, noticing there were a few shops close by that he may have remembered going to at one point in the past. He faintly recalled the Tigres Brand should have maintained a staple here, so when he checked, he sure enough found it where he last saw it: snug in the corner of the area.

"Ah, so it's no wonder you encountered the Ligres," remarked the Harrier as he drew his gaze back to Jimmy, who was fiddling with his keys, and earned a brief nod from the Support when he silently unlocked the door.

When the two other Reapers entered the home, the Harrier started to walk forward to follow suit only to grimace in the midst of planting his foot down on the tiled-floor. Instead of going in, the Harrier placed it beside his other on the cement landing again then bent down. He undid his shoelaces on each of his trainers, soon slipping out of them and quietly hearing Andy and Jimmy were chatting about something without him. He then placed his feet on the other side of the entryway and briefly went to pick up his shoes; content he hadn't screwed that up.

Or... maybe he was supposed to take his shoes off on _these_ tiles he was now standing on? Dammit, the Harrier didn't want to believe he may have mixed up the process after so long of not taking off his shoes in the Underground unless he slept. Not to mention, _if_ he remembered to take them off before he slept. So, considering how these tiles suggested they were the genkan of the small home... he must look like a moron right now.

The Harrier blushed with embarrassment and felt the need to pretend he was invisible... However, he was glad for the fact that no one could see his face as he awkwardly stared down at his white socks.** '_Fuck_.'**

"Whaatt's taaking yaa sao raong?" Andy called. He turned his head to see how she stood further inside but was on the beige carpet, only to widen his eyes in horror. "Whaatt ein taarlnaation aarre yaa daoing gaoing ein aon yaawrr saocks?"

The Harrier opened and closed his mouth, soon letting his jaw hang as he breathed, "W-Why are you still wearing your boots?"

Said ruddy-orange boots tapped idly on the floor while she made a face. "Daoes eit matterr?"

As he was about to answer that, he then did a quick blink before he simply sighed, "...Andy, you're not supposed to."

"Why?" Andy blinked with an eyebrow raise. "Everreeaone daoes aahtt the Baalraacks."

The Harrier couldn't help but feel as if one of his eyes were twitching. "This isn't the Barracks."

In response, Andy's face screwed up with confusion. "Then why?"

Before the Harrier had a chance to explain, Jimmy, who had been in the middle of getting his shoes off on the genkan, answered, "Japanese customs. When you enter a home, you take your shoes off at those tiles here, Annee." The Harrier furrowed his eyebrows, wondering why Andy wasn't making a fuss about her anonym being mispronounced as Jimmy added mildly, "It's somewhat the same as it is in New Zealand."

...Should he mention the fact that he fucked up those Japanese customs?

Andy put a hand on one of her hips. "Sao daoes eit leaarree maatterr?"

"To be straight-up, I like my carpet to be clean," admitted Jimmy with a shrug, shifting before he started concentrating on removing his trainers again. "Sort of the reason why we do that back home, is all I'm sayin'."

"See, Andy? We wouldn't want to upset the king in his castle..." supplied the Harrier shrewdly as he gestured towards Jimmy, soon gazing back at his friend pointedly. "Lose the boots."

For a long time, Andy scowled at him and Jimmy, soon tilting her head to blink down her boots, that had a brown crust caked on the bottom of both of them. After staring down for a bit longer, she let out a disgruntled sigh, "Fiiine…"

As Andy fiddled with her bootlaces' knots, Jimmy finally slipped out of his trainers and placed them near the beige-carpeted region. "I'm tryin' to get used to it still myself, to be straight-up about shoes."

**'Well then, I suppose I shouldn't be so worried if Andy and Jimmy aren't...'**

The Harrier smiled crisply. "I mean, I almost forgot to do it," he added after a long beat of silence. "Since I haven't been to houses in such a long time." Not to mention, he often had a knack for accidentally running out in his slippers, but the Harrier didn't think it was worth sharing. "The only place I go back to nowadays is the River, even though I _wish_ I didn't have to," he mused coolly with a huffed sigh.

"Isn't the floor cemented?" asked Jimmy curiously.

"Yeah, so it's not like Reapers should run around barefooted," returned the Harrier Reaper with a small chuckle. "We practically sleep in the sewers, so what use would there be in walking around if the River overflows?"

"Daoes eit?" asked Andy quickly; still stuck on undoing her boot knots.

The Harrier offered a wry smile to her. "Not that I know of." He set down his shoes beside Jimmy's before looking around the tiled area. "Come on, Andy. We've been Reapers together since the beginning of our careers in this hellhole."

Andy chucked her boot at him with an affronted scowl.

Without looking up, the Harrier simply predicted where it could hit him and caught it; placing it neatly beside his Ligres before he continued his search.

Jimmy's hood turned to face him. "You right?"

The Harrier kept the question in mind as he continued to scan the floor, soon raising his head. "...Uwabaki aren't a thing in New Zealand, I suppose?"

Andy gave him an odd look, as she was focusing on her other boot, while Jimmy laughed, "Not even, mate. A heap of us just go barefoot back home, and I only started shoddin' socks once I shifted here." Jimmy pointed at the Harrier's feet. "You can keep your socks on and you'll be all good, mate."

"Ah, thanks," intoned the Harrier before walking with Jimmy onto the carpet. "Force of habit of mine since childhood, you see."

"No worries, mate," said Jimmy with a chuckle as he continued forward. "Annee, make yuorself at home. I'm goin' to take our mate to get him somethin' to wear."

"Aohkaay," Andy chimed back. "Brling meh baack aah shirt."

When she said that, the Harrier paused before turning back to her. "Wait- Don't _tell_ me you're not wearing something under-" The next second resulted in Andy's hoodie making its home on his face. The Harrier pulled it off to blandly gaze at his friend, noticing her pastel-green tank top did nothing to conceal her arms that moved to plant her hands on her hips. "Very funny..." he mumbled before shaking his head, spinning around to follow after Jimmy again. "Could almost say that was cute."

Andy stuck out her tongue before she ignored him, tugging at her bootlaces again.

As they walked, the Harrier made note that the kitchen was mostly cramped with counters, the sink and the refrigerator to make a semi-circle. It had a counter in the middle with a space to enter on either side of it from where they met the carpet, which the Harrier found to be odd. The Harrier glanced around and took notice of how the living room was a bigger squared area than the kitchen, despite being small due to the size of the home, yet the creamy walls ended perfectly across from where the kitchen walls did. The furthest end of the kitchen and living room was next to the short hallway Jimmy was heading to, having three doors that spanned across it on the walls of the other end. As for furniture, there were two sets of couches against the connecting living room corner walls closest to the doorway, and on the other wall that led to the hallway, there was a... huh.

"You're something of an artist, aren't you?" asked the Harrier with an impressed smile, veering off from entering the hallway. He treaded forward until he stopped to observe a sooty-coloured mat, that was set up next to the unoccupied wall of the living room. It was smeared with grey-brown smears and smudges, probably from the clay that sat in the middle of it.

"The reason why I came here," replied Jimmy proudly; he made his way back and halted to look at the mat with the Harrier at the mouth of the hallway. "Heard Japan was a beautiful country, so I couldn't help myself from a look-see it to get some mean inspiration in."

"Which involves claywork?" mused the Harrier simply as he blinked at the half-formed creation, wondering what Jimmy was trying to shape out of the malleable substance.

"Carvin' usually, but I felt the need to try a bit of that, actually. Yet… I am still on the fence about tryin' to do paintin'," admitted the Support Reaper with a light chuckle. "Been in a slump about what I want to make lately, so I thought shiftin' over here would give me somethin'. New experiences seem to bring out new ideas, as I was told by my mum and dad." The New Zealander paused for a bit before he gave another chuckle, "It brings in pretty profit, though."

"Profit?" The Harrier turned back to Jimmy.

"Makin' somthin' of myself since I popped on over a year ago when I was twenty." Jimmy shrugged. "Since I got my shop stayin' under us alive for now."

"Yaa aown aah shaop!?" Andy shouted over from the entryway; the Harrier could picture her face was shining with awe as she croaked out, "_Gett leal_!"

"Not even," laughed Jimmy and crossed his arms. His voice sounded as if it was going quieter, his tone even sounded slightly off during his next chuckle, "Maybe a bloke thought to knock over the sign and you couldn't gawk it, eh."

...Maybe that's why the Harrier hadn't noticed. He could have sworn the other door led to another dwelling, but if the served as the shop... that was awfully convenient for Jimmy to have. However, that wasn't what drew in the Harrier's interest. Instead, he focused on the delivery of the information, soon making his own conclusions as to what it meant before deciding it was worth bringing up.

"It happens often then," noted the Harrier, earning a sharp head turn from Jimmy. "Sorry to hear that… that sucks," he added sympathetically.

"_Get off the grass_, h-how'd you reckon?" asked Jimmy in surprise, his voice shaking near the end of his sentence.

"Well, it's simple-" The Harrier frowned as he raised a finger. "That kind of comment suggests that had happened along the line at one point."

"Oh-" Jimmy smacked his palm to his forehead before laughing in amusement, "Must be more knackered than I thought I was!" The Harrier quietly observed the Support as he rubbed his head until the Support stopped, soon keeping his hand on his forehead as he sighed, "Have I been losin' you?"

"Define 'losing'," merely said the Harrier helpfully.

"My diction." The Support shrugged before chuckling slightly- no wait, wait a minute... That chuckle actually sounded nervous to the Harrier's ears. "'Cause you did say I'm the only joker you met from New Zealand."

Okay, the Harrier could see what was going on here. When Andy first started hanging around him, she wasn't eager to use some of the sayings she learned from America nor was she confident in herself for using them right. Kudos to Jimmy for sticking to his slangs, though... but the Harrier wasn't going to let the New Zealander think he had to tiptoe with his mouth around the Underground because of the Harrier's inexperience in understanding the meaning behind Jimmy's words.

"Last I checked, my answer hasn't changed, Jimmy," replied the Harrier as kindly and nicely as he could. "Don't worry, though," he added when he sensed Jimmy may have been reluctant to accept that response, raising a palm up for good measure. "It's not too much of a problem, I've been able to follow along and have gotten the gist of the context so far."

"Ah, she'll be right then." Jimmy nodded contently after a few seconds… or at least, the Harrier imagined the Support did. It was somewhat difficult gauging the other Reaper's reaction based on the fact that the lanky man also had his hood on… Ah, well, he could kind of feel a smile tugging at Jimmy's lips, so the Harrier at once redacted part of his observation. "Chur bro."

Ahah- there it was- The Harrier successfully nailed his delievery to give Jimmy the reassurance he needed!

"Don't mention it," the Harrier murmured warmly, smiling as he put a hand over his heart. "Do whatever makes you happy, my friend, is all I'll be asking of you."

"Heh, I'll remember that." Jimmy gave nod of ease.

As the Harrier was pleased with his efforts, he then blinked in surprise when Andy hollered over from where she stood at the divide between the kitchen and living room in her faded-grey socks, "Daoesn'tt raook leike aI'm seeing waashing gaoing aon herre!"

Jimmy gave a swift look to Andy before turning his attention back to the Harrier. "Oh bugger, you came to get your hooded pullovers washed," said Jimmy with a chuckle. "Enough about me."

"Right." The Harrier nodded before following after the Support again.

They left Andy to her own devices as the Harrier was led into a small bedroom from the left door of the hallway, blinking in surprise at how the room only had a dresser and bed… making note the walls and carpet were the same colour as the ones feeding into the room. Usually, the Harrier didn't try to get too involved with another person's life, but seeing how little Jimmy had made him feel almost inclined to ask-

"What's your size, cuz?" asked Jimmy; the Harrier noticed the other Reaper was pulling out shirts.

"Anything with a hood and medium, thank you," supplied the Harrier as he simply allowed himself to lean against the nearby door frame.

"Shot bro." The Support went back to focusing on checking clothing before he spoke again in a mutter, "Oh bugger all."

"Is there a problem?" The Harrier frowned immediately.

He alertly watched as Jimmy turned his head. "I don't suppose you would trade for a t-shirt?"

The Harrier lowered his gaze. "No offence, but I'd rather not have people look at me, to be frank."

"...Hang on."

The Harrier raised an eyebrow as he gradually raised his head, only to blink in surprise as Jimmy was tugging his red hoodie off. As soon as the article of clothing was messily cradled in the other Reaper's arms, Jimmy went over and offered them to the Harrier.

"I know it's a bit groddy..." said the copper haired male as he fumbled with the Reaper uniform, his grey eyes shifting before darting to the Harrier. "But it's the only thing I own with a hood."

"Are you sure you're okay with this…?" the Harrier couldn't help but breathe out, shaking his head before frowning with uncertainty. "You don't have to do that-"

"Nah, yeah," replied Jimmy with a shrug and smile. "It's only for a bit until your pullover is clean, eh?"

"...I suppose it wouldn't hurt." The Harrier nodded sheepishly. "Thank you, it'll do."

"No worries," said the Support as he ran a hand through his messy, copper locks. "My shout for a mate." He shoved the red fabric into the Harrier's arms and took Andy's hoodie before shuffling past; the Harrier turned to watch him open the door across the hall. "I'll just get the machine started up and toss her in with Annee's when you got her off."

Nodding again, the Harrier closed the door, waiting a few seconds in case the other Reaper returned before smiling. He walked over to the bed before carefully resting Jimmy's hoodie down, hesitating for a few seconds before removing his black one. It felt odd, how the moment he started, he felt his body almost lock up as he was in the middle of pulling it off his head. He even felt dizzy at the darkness he subjected himself to before he managed to slip it off and chucked it past the red hoodie.

For a brief moment, he zeroed in on how pale his lean arms' skin became, tracing old scars with his fingers carefully as little recollections of their origins drifted in. And yet, as he searched his arms, he could never find anything associated with burns or deep scar tissue damage suggesting that he had flailed them against the hot metal parts of the-

Abruptly, he reached for Jimmy's hoodie.

He shakily breathed as he tugged it over his head, fumbling with shoving his arms through the sleeves before trying to worm his head out. When finally he set the hood over his head, he made note that the hoodie was albeit big on him, as his hands were half-covered by the ends of the sleeves and the bottom went halfway down his thighs. Even so, he felt it would have to do. The Harrier quickly scooped up his discarded article of clothing and briskly went to join Jimmy in the cramped room with the washer and dryer.

As the copper haired New Zealander set the black hoodie inside when the Harrier passed it to him, the Harrier simply started readjusting the hood when it flopped over his face; pausing when the other Reaper breathed, "Are you allergic to fabric softener?"

"Fabric softener?" The Harrier tipped his head slightly, as to not disturb the hood, before he sighed, "On the top of my head, I wouldn't know if I was. Why do you ask?"

"I usually put some in," replied Jimmy with a shrug, turning his head to regard the Harrier before his grey eyes flickered to the container next to the machine. "Only for it to be nicer on the skin."

"Oh-" The Harrier clapped his hands together and grinned happily. "By all means, please do."

For a second, Jimmy tilted his head to the Harrier before doing so. As he set the latch and flipped a switch, he rose to his full height as the machine started to rattle. "Should be an hour then another for drying."

"Ah, that's fine by me," said the Harrier as he backed out of the space to let Jimmy pass. He fell in behind the taller Reaper as he mused, "I used to have to do it by hand."

Jimmy stopped for a trice, only to keep walking just before the Harrier almost bumped into his back. "By hand?"

"Yup. The woman who raised me wasn't too trusting of them, so she taught me to wash by hand," said the Harrier with a grimace. "Nor did she know how to use washing machines."

"They come with manuals," said Jimmy as they came into the kitchen.

"She didn't want to read them," returned the Harrier before he slowly turned his head to see how Andy stared at them wide-eyed. He cringed and widened his eyes when she dropped a glass and heard it shatter as she whipped her head between them.

The female Reaper's expression was pallid as she cried out, "_That's_ what yaa raook leike!?"

Instantly, Jimmy laughed hard while the Harrier groaned, "Yes, I've been Jimmy all along." He waved a sleeve floppily up and sighed as he inched forward, "I'm just borrowing this until mine's ready, Andy."

As Andy's expression reluctantly relaxed and she gave a nervous chuckle, the Harrier shook his head as he knelt down to survey the pale reddish-brown tiled area. "Just stay still," he told her firmly as he frowned hard. "I don't want you cutting yourself."

"Maaybee aI shaourld haave keptt mah baootts aon," suggested Andy with flat tone. "Baootts aahrre baootts folr aah rleaasaon."

"And boots will track glass across Jimmy's home," dryly returned the Harrier with a huff, shaking his head before he looked at the counter for a bit. An idea came to him, and he soon turned back to Andy. "I need you to hop onto the counter and lose the socks."

Andy gaped at that. "Yaa waantt meh ta go baarrefaoott _naow_ ta hurlt mahserlf!?"

The Harrier hardened his expression. "As long as you scooch yourself to the other side to get off onto the carpet, I see no reason for you to be worried. You could have gotten glass on your socks, Andy, so we can't trust that you can wear them anymore."

"_Aoh_\- maakes sense!" Andy chirped before her face blanked. "Wait… then whaatt aahbaoutt mah saocks!?" she asked frantically. "AI _need_ mah saocks!"

"I'll buy you new socks…" grumbled the Harrier before he pressed, "I'll _even_ get you unmatching pairs for the kicks because the most important thing for me to do right now is ensuring my friend doesn't slice open her foot, or have glass embedded in them for the rest of her existence." He gave her a pointed look. "Capeesh?"

Andy gave him a long look before sighing in defeat, "Caapeesh…"

"Good girl…" The Harrier hummed before twisting his head to Jimmy. "Do you have a dustpan and brush?"

"Oh, that's right," replied Jimmy before heading back into the hall. "Lemme get you 'em…"

With that, the Harrier flicked the lights on before focusing on how Andy was struggling to get on the counter. She was about to twist on the spot when he spoke up sternly, "Don't do that, I'll give you a boost."

He went to position himself on the other end of the unattached counter. "Reach behind you and I'll pull you up." Andy made a noise then he grabbed ahold of her, groaning as he started to slide her up onto the sandy-brown surface. He helped her go backwards until he guided her hands to the edge of the counter so she could steady herself. "Good, now lose the socks. Be careful when you do because we both know you wouldn't want to harm your pretty little fingers."

"Fiiine…" she sighed before she did so awkwardly, dropping them somewhere on the other side of the counter and the Harrier nodded in approval. "Bautt yaa daon'tt haave ta tarlk leike thaatt," she added with an annoyed grumble.

"What? Concerned that my friend will be careless?" he hummed with a pointed look at her. "Trust me, you know I'm looking out for you."

He watched as his friend twisted herself around, almost losing her grip and balance had he not steadied her, until she faced him again with a disgruntled look. "Yaa knaow whaatt aI meaan."

The Harrier simply shrugged. "Perhaps, perhaps not. I'll let you decide." He stepped back to observe her as she thrust herself over the edge, and Andy grinned while her feet happily tapped and rubbed against the beige carpet. He smiled contently with a nod. "Presto." When her eyes drifted to him after he had spoken, he placed a hand over his heart as he chuckled, "Felicitaciones, amigo mío, has escapado del peligro."

Andy fully faced him and her eyebrows furrowed. "Daon'tt dao this ta meh."

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked teasingly before grinning with another chuckle,

"Aeitherr speaak Jaapaanesh aorr Engrish," Andy huffed unhappily. "Yaa maake _nao_ sense."

"When I see fit you are ready to fly without me in the wondrous world of fluent speech," he sang as he swayed a little on the spot and pivoted smoothly towards the kitchen, he dipped his head as he murmured snidely, "I'll consider teaching you Spanish."

"Fuck yaa," Andy groaned.

With one smirk, he shrugged nonchalantly and held it. "Ah, one of the many compliments I receive... Good selection."

It was then that he heard Jimmy's return, glancing over to him to see the lanky male held the much needed tools. "Oh, good timing, Jimmy," he murmured then held out his hands. "I can get rid of the mess for you."

The New Zealander frowned unsurely. "I wouldn't want to bother you, mate."

"No, no..." The Harrier shook his awaiting hands and patiently kept his gaze on the other male. "The mess wouldn't have happened if you hadn't brought us here, so I would think it would be bothersome and rude for you, the owner, to be the one to clean up after us."

Jimmy's grey eyes widened a fraction before lowering his gaze to the two items. "...If you really want to, I wouldn't be opposed."

"Then how about you sit back and let me handle it?" pressed the Harrier mildly before waiting on the other male's response. It was a moment or two later that Jimmy hesitantly offered the dustpan and brush and the Harrier took them with a nod. "Thank you."

As the Harrier was about to enter the kitchen, feeling Jimmy cross his arms as the lanky male watched him approach the area, the Harrier paused before turning back. "Andy." When she blinked and gave him her full attention, he waved the brush towards her. "Don't think about entering the danger zone until I'm done," he told her firmly before simply holding the brush at her. "I'm a trained 'glass remover' professional, and we can't have civilians get caught in the crossfire."

He merely received a cheeky eye-roll in return.

The Harrier smiled in relief. **'Alright.'** He settled himself at the start of the pale ruddy tiles.** 'Time to shine, let's put on a show.'** He crouched down then carefully inspected the floor to began his work.

* * *

It must have taken a while until the Harrier finally watched as Jimmy began tying up the bag of glass that he deemed the task was done. As the lanky male left to dispose of the bag outside, it left Andy and the Harrier to mingle until the copper haired male returned while in the middle of dusting his hands off.

"Choice call, bro," said Jimmy as he nodded to the Harrier, crossing his arms as he chuckled, "I just froze up when you hopped to it."

"Well," started the Harrier sheepishly, resting a hand on his baggy-hooded nape. He chuckled as well, "Don't sell yourself short, Jimmy."

The copper haired Reaper grimaced slightly. "If you say so, then I'll take it." The Support went over to pace between the two entrances to the kitchen, giving a once-over of the floor before his eyes lolled back to the Harrier. "Almost appears as if it didn't even happen." His accent slightly came out during that mumble.

"Let's just go with 'premium free service' and leave it at that," said the Harrier as he opened his arms out with a nod, blinking when Jimmy's hoodie's hood flopped into his face and earned a laugh from everyone. He could feel his cheeks warm up a bit and pretended that hadn't happened, merely picking and lightly tugging at the edges of the hood that rested on his face to the side. He readjusted it for a moment more so his face was hidden properly before he was satisfied.

"Alright," he began as he turned back to Jimmy, "How long do you suppose that took?"

Jimmy scratched his chin and tilted his head in thought. "I reckon… twenty minutses. You kept pausin' every now and then."

"Pausing?" The Harrier frowned when Andy smacked a hand on his shoulder, making him regard her irritably with a flinch.

"Yaa think taa much," she said with an eye-roll, yet she was smiling slightly with a tooth peeking out. "He thinks taa much," she repeated when the Harrier noticed Jimmy appeared to be confused the moment she had said that. With a pat on his shoulder, she slunk around him and shook her head wearily. "Aahrlwaays jaustt… zaoning aoutt, aorr saomething leike that."

"Huh, sounds stink," murmured Jimmy; a worried look was cast to the Harrier a second later. "So you… do heaps of thinkin'?"

"Force of habit, you see," said the Harrier simply with a good natured shrug. He shot a look to Andy before he tapped his head with his eyes wandering back to Jimmy. "I can't help but think about any possibilies or potential missteps that could happen, or think even anything that strikes my interest." He slumped his shoulders visibly as he sighed in frustration, "Andy thinks it's a bad thing."

"He's leike aah zaombee aaht times," grumbled Andy with a huff and the Harrier sent her an annoyed look. "Saometimes aah gaood smaack eis aahrl he needs ta gett naorlmaal aahgaein."

The Harrier scoffed, "Excuse me, but that's totally inaccurate."

Andy sharply turned back and put a hand on her hip; a challenge in her glinting gaze. "Aoh _leaalry_?"

His eyes sharpened when they glinted back. "No question about it."

There was a sudden pause in the air, like something stabbed it in the gut to leave it breathless, then Andy let out a giddy cry, "Plaove eit!" She abruptly stretched out and wiggled her fingers as lunged for the Harrier.

The Harrier dipped his head. "Gladly."

He letted her come to him before hopping and twisting out of the way of her arms. With a few steps to steady himself, he merely leaned sideways twice to evade her seeking limbs before thrusting body to the right, turning to watch her fall and crumple onto one of the couches that was closer to the front door. He flashed a smirk, raising his left heel and touched the tips of his toes against the carpet as she was pulling herself up. Before she had a chance to get off, he slid his left foot in a half-circle in the direction of the kitchen before pushing hard on his right to spin and thrust himself into dashing away.

He came to be on Jimmy's left flank and turned to grin back at his friend. "I thought you were working on your footwork?" he taunted teasingly as he took a couple more steps back before tutting in amusement, "Such a shame."

"_Caan eit_!" Andy shouted with vex before jogging over to slug him on the shoulder. It merely caused him to laugh as he tipped his body to precisely rotate and swing dangerously to evade it, righting himself with a step away when he succeeded and she huffed in frustration, "AI caan nevarr caatch yaa- _nevarr_ gett aah heitt aon yaa!"

"Well, well, well…" he murmured with a coy smile. "That should tide you over because that, my friend, is accurate."

When Jimmy cast his questioning gaze between the two of them, the Harrier picked up on his bemusement. He immediately turned his head to the Support. "Sorry." He rested a hand on his red-hooded nape and explained mildly, "Andy has trouble keeping up with me."

"Thaatt's _baurlsheitt_!" Andy spat back vexedly.

"What? I'm just explaining it as it is," he said with a chuckle stuck in his throat and a hint of teasing, lowering his hand and shaking his head when he went on, "Andy can sneak up on me, but she's never been able to land an attack on me."

"Isn't that a good thing?" asked Jimmy knitting his eyebrows.

"We maake aah gaame aof eit," said Andy with a shrug while laughing merrily. "AI uosuaarly rlaand aahrl aof mah aahtttaacks aon Prlaayerrs, Naoise…" She sharply struck out an index finger at the Harrier Reaper. "Yett aI caan'tt gett aah heitt aon _him_!"

He flashed his own index fingers at her and raised his thumbs up and hummed, "_Slacker_."

"_Zaombee_," she returned but in a murmur, grinning happily at him a moment later and he couldn't help but chuckle and lower his arms. She sharply drew closer to abruptly tug the big hood down over his face, causing him to cry out only to explode in laughter as she wrapped her arms around his torso and arms then squeezed him. "AI win!"

"No fair, you cheated-" he gasped out while he writhed in her hold, yet was unable to control his laughter as he stubbornly clung to him. He freed an arm to curl his hand slightly over her shoulder before playfully shoving her off, breaking her arms' link on his body without feeling resistance. "For _your_ information, I let you do that," he added breathily- after killing a snort of amusement- with a feigned crossness. "You've won _nothing_…"

"Lyaarr, lyaarr, paantts aon fyerr!" she sang as she steadied her footing while he fixed the hood again. He ignored how she stuck her tongue out when he didn't call out a counterclaim, simply busying himself with making sure his eyes could peer out at her.

Andy gave him a long face when he was finished with adjusting the oversized hood, tilting her head with a wolfish smile. "Laound twao?"

"Learn when to quit when you've been beat, my friend," he returned lightly before gesturing towards Jimmy. "But I'm afraid we shouldn't roughhouse much more because this _is_ Jimmy's home."

"Heh, no worries, mate," said Jimmy mellowly as he let out a laugh of his own, shaking his head in amusement. "Good on you for havin' fun. Not like you munted my wares or whatnot."

"Because I knew where to put my feet," the Harrier intoned smoothly before briskly heading over to check the mat. When it appeared the clay he spotted before laid untouched, he felt himself release a sigh of relief and turned his head towards the two other Reapers. "And everything is just as it was when we arrived," he announced as he started to pad back.

As he joined them, he smiled as he continued mildly, "Now that we've gotten that out of our system..." He clasped his hands as he took a moment to breathe in quietly. "I suppose all we need to do is wait for our hoodies to finish being washed and we'll be out of your hair."

"That reminds me." Jimmy cocked his head. "You're doin' a petition about dealin' the wrongdoers…"

"Ah, yes," murmured the Harrier, feeling himself become more alert at that topic. He cleared his throat before speaking again, "That is indeed our plan of attack, per say."

"And you said you were goin' to present the petition…?" said Jimmy in an odd tone of voice, which made the Harrier frown slightly. He tried to focus more on Jimmy's body language to figure out what he was going on about, wondering if something was wrong when Andy disturbed the Harrier's concentration.

"He waantts ta dao eit becaause we think the Caounduccttarr ded saomething ta him," quickly explained Andy as she adopted a serious manner, frowning unhappily and disgrundled as she crossed her arms. She shook her head. "Saomething aahbaoutt him sclewing with his mind, aorr-" She shot a look to him, her expression frantic within seconds as she silently pleaded for his compliance to help her out, he supposed.

With an inhale to prepare himself for his delivery, he turned his head to Jimmy. "What Andy means to say is that we have come to realize that the Conductor did something to me, and it could potentially undermine our efforts," he told the Support seriously. Andy breathed out a sigh and smiled, shuffling closer to him as he knitted his eyebrows. "Which is why we need to present Recruiting as soon as possible now."

"If it's too much to say, I was just goin' to ask how you were goin' to present the petition, but that's-" Jimmy scowled after a second, shaking his head with irritation. "_R__atshit_ ow."

"Oh." The Harrier blinked, feeling as if he was momentarily dizzy before he spoke again, "Sorry about that." He placed a hand on his nape while Andy bewilderedly gaped in a frown, once and awhile stealing glances at him as he mulled over what Jimmy just said.

"If we focus on the subject of the petition…" he began uneasily, gritting his teeth in a grimace and awkward smile as he breathed out, "Let's just say that I've thought over how it'll go. I mean, I was trapped in the Barracks last Week, so I had plenty of time to figure out what to say, and what to go with, depending on the theoretical situations or responses that may come up during it-"

When he was met with puzzled expressions, he mentally backpedalled briefly. He coughed into his arm and spoke again, "M-Meandering aside, all I'm saying is that I know how I'll get the results to the person we need to hear from us."

"But… are you only goin' to pass out the notebook?" asked Jimmy uneasily, his eyebrows furrowing as he continued, "How will you explain it to the person- or who is the person you're goin' to-" Jimmy smacked his forehead and grimaced, soon speaking again but with a frown, "When you do a petition, aren't you supposed to do more than just hand in what you got from the petition?"

The Harrier blinked in surprise. "There's more?" He angled his head towards Andy, who widened her eyes. "Andy?"

"Aoh!" Andy cried out before she crookedly smiled… awkwardly? "Maaybe?" she hummed sheepishly with a shrug then started shaking her head. "AI meaan, aI've daone them... bautt aI've nevarr haanded them ein- _eheh_…"

Slowly the Harrier's expression became neutral. "You only knew about the signing part… didn't you?"

"Hey- hey-" she protested as he pivoted to fully face her, waving her arms in a fluster as she cried out with a huff, "Raook- wee _gaott_ the signaatturres, sao whaatt's the big deaarl eif wee daon'tt dao _aahneething_ _erlse_!?"

"I'm not angry, Andy," he told her simply. That made her blink in surprise before calming down slightly, gaping at him as he sighed, "Except, I would have liked to have known that in advance, seeing as this is the first time I'm doing one."

"...Aahpaorlegee aahceptted?" Andy asked in a tiny, hopeful voice. She clasped her hands near her chin and gave him a small grin; her amber-brown eyes faintly shining.

He waited a while before smiling slightly. "I suppose so."

"Aoh _gaood_…" she moaned as she dropped her hands, slumping forward. "Thaoughtt yaa werre gaoing ta be aahngree with meh."

"Why would I be angry with you?" asked the Harrier with a confused scowl, pursing his lips as he sighed again, "You're my friend, and I would like to hope you were not withholding that information from me because of a stupid reason."

"Leike…?" The dark dirty blonde tilted her head and she raised it slightly with a worried frown.

"A stupid reason that constitutes a snag that screws over Recruitment." He crossed his arms and huffed.

"Aoh _gaood_!" Andy piped and grinned brightly, giving huge body bobbing nods. She soon straightened her posture, slouching a bit afterward. "Phew."

"To be straight-up," started Jimmy as the Harrier snapped his attention to him again, watching the other male scratch his chin while his gaze looked off into the distance. "Dependin' on who you're presentin' it to, wouldn't it be all good if you make an explanation of what the Recruitin' is all about?"

"To make sure it doesn't get miscommunicated?" supplied the Harrier before receiving a nod. The Harrier put a hand over his chin, closing his eyes yet kept his eyelids slightly raised as he mused mindfully, "That is a good point, to be frank…"

Now that he thought about it… if he did his thing and left it at that, there was much room for confusion to bloom from the seeds he planted. Without it explained properly, or not offering an explanation at all, the proposition would be lost and lose all of what it stood for. Through repeating it, or paraphrasing from those passing on the message… by the time it got to the one person he truly wanted it to arrive at, it would develop into an entirely different meaning. For the Harrier, that was the last thing he wanted to happen.

One way to sort that out would be to limit the scope… However, as Jimmy suggested, a surefire way of ensuring it wouldn't happen would be to explain it with a different medium that wouldn't be sabotaged if every single person read the same message. As a matter of fact, that idea was perfect.

"If you would be so kind…" The Harrier merely smiled. "Do you suppose you could spare us paper and an envelope?"

"Course I can," said Jimmy with a keen nod. "How many?"

"I'll only take what I need if you supply me a stack," responded the Harrier evenly before he blinked slowly. "As well as… if you could tell me what else we may need to do in order to do this petition its justice."

Andy craned her neck towards him, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion before she started to chortle hard. "Dao _jaustice_!?" she croaked in the middle of a laugh, starting to slap her knee as her eyes clenched closed when laughing harder. "Aoh maan- thaatt's jaustt _gaorld_!"

Jimmy simply smiled, his grey eyes emitting his amusement as he gestured for the Harrier to follow him. "Hard out. I'll get you what you need, bro."

The Harrier's smile grew as he dipped his head. "Much thanks."

* * *

It was late in the Day when the Harrier and Andy left Jimmy's home after their preparation was complete and they had their hoodies back. Jimmy saw them out before locking his dwelling as they went down the steps, not before exchanging pleasantries that they would update him on the outcome of their proposition.

Before they started for the River, the Harrier let his friend take the lead so she could choose whatever shop caught her fancy. He wasn't going to allow for himself to break another promise, so he simply let her cart him around for the next hour until Andy happily trotted with brand new socks on; thankfully not complaining about how her feet hurt as he contently watched her.

When they first started doing stuff together, the vultures tended to think him and Andy were actually dating. The Harrier Reaper would have liked to dispel their misguided notions but Andy took care of that fairly easily. To be frank, would you keep talking nonsense if one of the subjects of your conversation cocked a rifle in your face and screamed broken Japanese until you let it go? ...If you had any common sense, that would be a no brainer.

It often frustrated him that he had to walk out each Day and remain silent until the gossip faded into obscurity- a breath of fresh air- when it wasn't in their interest to make it their business he was spending time with his only Partner who survived his Game Week with him. Sighing mentally, he wondered if the vultures still clung to hope that him and Andy were an item... but he wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Why did people think a guy spending time with a girl automatically declared them as daters? There were no rules for who you may or may not hang out with during your leisure, and right now, he was glad he could have a companion to shoulder Day-to-Day hardships with.

Part of his mind went back to what Jimmy said about Andy waiting for him all-Week-long after that thought, reinforcing his earlier urgency when trying finding his only friend...

"If you want, we could take another stop," he mused at some point into their journey back to the Shibuya River. "And get you a bag so you don't have to worry about your storage space." Well, he didn't mind that his knapsack was still cumbersome even after he bought Andy socks, so it wouldn't be a bad idea to lighten it more if it came to the expense of doing something nice for his friend.

The moment Andy shot him a bemused look, he let his gaze drift off. "I mean, after all the trouble I gave you with my disappearance last Week... that should be enough compensation." He put his hands into his pockets- careful not to crush his taot papers- while he continued walking with her. "Unless... you want the Yen Pins now, Andy." He drew his gaze back yet kept it lowered. "Since, you know, I've already crunched what I owe you from how much time-"

"AI daon'tt waantt yaawrr maonnee," Andy said with a small, unconcerned frown then spun on the sidewalk to stop and look at him. He grimaced slightly as he raised his head to look at his friend once he halted to regard her. She put her arms behind her head and leaned on air, so to speak, as she sighed, "AI'm jaust haapee yaaw'rre baack." She shrugged slightly. "Yaa knaow?"

"Mmm, that's good to know then..." he mumbled, feeling somewhat better yet didn't continue on walking. He simply blinked at Andy as he smiled a little. "But we don't have to go back right away."

The dark, dirty blonde knitted her eyebrows as she lowered her arms, her lips pursing. "AI thaoughtt yaa waantted ta gett this aoverr with aas saoon aas paossible?"

"If we hadn't met up with Jimmy, we could have." He took his hands out of his pockets carefully, sighing briefly before he tilted his head. "And maybe we would have botched everything and looked like buffoons."

"Yaawrr paointt?" sniffed Andy with a frown slowly tugging onto her lips, putting a hand on her hip as she put her other on her chin. "Yaa ausauaahrly daon'tt sauggest daoing aahneething aunress eitt's becaause aof meh eorr yaa'wrre naott feelring leike gaoing baack."

"_Hah_, you caught me," he breathed with a humourless laugh blowing out when he had spoken. "Guess I"m not as crafty as I may think." The Harrier closed his eyes, shaking his head before he mumbled as he put a hand over his heart, "When you think about it..." He slurred his words as he pondered what he could tell his friend, soon deciding to give a shrug. "We've done all that we've could, and yet-" He frowned as he blinked uneasily. "Now I feel like we should be doing more."

"Yaa saaid we caan'tt," Andy reminded him warily.

The Harrier let his shoulders fall before he took a step closer to her, nodding reluctantly. "Call it cold feet or whatnot, but what we're about to do will make or break _everything_."

"Bautt eit wirl waorlk." The female Reaper smiled wolfishly as her eyes crinkled. She drew her hands together and bobbed them she chirped, "We've gaotten this faalr, whaatt's staopping aus now?"

"Between you and me, what I'm going to say and do during our spiel will be risky diplomacy," he told her firmly, earning a confused raise of her eyebrows. Her amber-brown orbs owlishly regarded him curiously, giving him the invitation to enlighten her.

He raised one corner of his lips then let them become a flat line, inhaling before he started quietly, "We've lost our chance at having a guaranteed opportunity of catching the posh bastard today before he does whatever the fuck he does. So, seeing as we've pretty much wasted precious daylight..." He dipped his head before murmuring, "We're not going to let him leave our sight the moment he enters it tomorrow."

"Expraain." Andy grimaced yet smiled knowingly. That was one thing he loved about Andy; she didn't question his motives. Sure, she did in some cases, but with all that they've gotten done so far, they wouldn't have done anything if Andy didn't let him be the brains in their operation for the most part.

"Imagine this, my friend," he continued mildly with amusement, moving a hand to the sky and gazing past it in tune with his next delivery. "It's an average, Underground morning... The sun is its ever wonderful, _golden_ _goodness_..." He whipped his head to her. "Reapers are waking, Players have no clue what they're in for as they rest in Stasis..." Letting his hand fall gradually until it was near his shoulder, he pulled both hands close to hover his palms over his chest. "Enter you and me."

He nodded when his friend did, feeling his heart slightly go warm as he knew she raptly absorbed his speech. It was like he was an exotic flower and Andy couldn't help but admire him... He gave a breathy chuckle at that silly thought, knowing she was all ears for the next phase of the plan.

The Harrier then shook his palms and let his hands go back to where they were, soon going on eagerly, "We, part of the vulture society, wake up as usual." He let his arms fan out and gestured through little circles and whisks of his hands as he crisply grinned. "We groom and ready ourselves for a gruelling, uneventful Day where we may get lectured by the posh bastard again- but _wait_!" He flicked his hands back up to let his left rest over his heart and hover his other near his mouth, almost covering it as he piped, "Oh no- we can't leave the River yet! We're _confused_!"

"Caonfused?" Andy chimed in warmly. She tipped her head back as chuckled, "Aoh nao... whaatt wirl we _dao_?"

The Reaper dropped his arms and smirked as he began pacing in front of her. "Oh, what else do Reapers do if they're confused..." He sharply turned, shooting a finger up as he rounded on Andy and laughed, "We ask for advice." His finger swayed down to point at her. "From there-" He popped a thumb up. "- history is made."

"Why aahrre yaa sao waorlied then?" Andy shook her head lightly and a giddy grin stretched across her face. After a few seconds, she gave a few soft claps as she nodded enthusiastically. "Eit's good! Eit's good."

"Yes, yes... all and good," he hummed in agreement as he crossed his arms. His his face soon became neutral as he coolly spoke, "But this is the part that relies all on me giving them a show to remember. If I don't sell us, Andy... we sink and drown."

The mustard hoodie wearer blew a raspberry and waved a hand down with an eye-roll. "_Pa_rease... Eit's purlfect, yaa gaot eit ein yaawrr heaad-" Her bright eyes grew wide as she chirped, "Yaa knaow whaatt ta dao aahnd aI'rl be rlightt behind yaa the whaorle waay thrlaoeugh!"

For a few seconds, the Harrier felt as if he was at a loss of what to say next. He let himself smile contently as he relaxed, blinking appreciatively back at his friend as he wondered what he would do without her. Already they pinpointed his inability to properly act was because of the posh bastard's Imprinter... so if it was just him and only him doing this, he was certain he wouldn't have the drive to keep going. Andy had a kind of effect of being able to motivate or push him into doing stuff he usually would blatantly ignore and deem meaningless to do... and it still worked even to this Day.

He had to hand it to her; Andy knew how to turn his head around.

"Yaa saaid befaorre..." Andy squinted and frowned, suddenly gaining his attention as he furrowed his eyebrows and wondered what she was going to say. With a few heartbeats of silence, she soon blinked before tipping her head and continued, "Therre waas aah cerrtaain pearlson yaa waantted ta give the thing ta..." Her gaze landed on him, expectantly pausing on him as she finished, "Sao, whao eis eit?"

"Oh." He breathed out and felt a little sheepish, letting his gaze drift away again and watched the road thoughtfully. "Well, since you asked..." Biting his lip sightly, he soon closed his eyes and sighed, "I'm going to ensure it goes to the right person."

"Thaatt's naott ahn aahnswerr," Andy chided teasingly as she let out an amused laugh, letting it keep going to warmly reach the Harrier's ears. She then took on a honeyed tone. "Daon'tt be aah _silree-bilree_... Yaa caan terl meh _aahneething_\- aahnd naobaodee's _herre_-" She leaned forward, from what he felt and heard, and patted her hands against her legs as she croaked out playfully, "_Caome aon_... terl yaawrr bestt bauddee Andee _everreething_..."

He promptly turned his head to her, quirking a side of his lip up and hesitated for a while before he breathed, "Woof."

Andy's face was hilarious from how it fell, becoming disgrundled as she huffed, "_Leaalree_?"

"_What_?" He lifted both of his palms up as he shrugged. "It sounded like you wanted a dog to spill his deep, dark secrets."

"Aoh, aahrllightt..." she grumbled as she rose and straightened her back. She frowned in blatant disappointment before sighing with ease, "Thaoughtt eit waas waorlth aah shaott."

"You know, as amusing as that was," he curtly replied as he crossed his arms. "I _was_ about to elaborate who our recipient was." Andy's face flashed with incredulous dismay and he shook his head with an eye-roll. "However... you kind of made me want to see what would happen at the end your little performance. So... being the good friend I am..." He smirked. "I let you have your fun."

Andy muttered under her breath, and he could have sworn there were swearing involved, then hung her head. "Caourld yaa terl meh now...?"

The Harrier tipped his chin up slightly and pointed the top of his gaze in the same direction. "Hmm..." He swayed a little, smacking his lips before setting his eyes back on his friend. "I suppose."

"Whaatt aahre yaa waaiting folr?" Andy pressed impatiently, tapping her feet as her head lifted. "Shaoot."

Stepping closer to her, casting wary glances around to make sure no vultures were actually listening in, he leaned towards her ear and whispered into it, "Him."

Waiting a few seconds, he could almost tell Andy was slowly starting to smile crookedly. "Gaott eit."

"Good then." He backed away and smiled contently. "And is that all of your grievances you have to discuss with me today, Shiza-"

Andy shoved him back, alarming him as his eyes went wide upon realizing how aggravated Andy had become in that short amount of time. Feeling bad that he actually thought it was okay to try use her surname at the expense of a joke when it was a sore subject matter for her, he lowered his head, nodded then sighed, "...S-Sorry."

His friend's voice was frigid. "Daon'tt yaa daarre _everr_ think ta ause eitt..." Her gaze was dangerously dark and sharp as she aloofly scoffed, "Yaa _knaow_ that."

Nodding again uneasily, he simply gave her a sad look. "N-Noted."

With the previously relaxed air now tense with awkwardness, the Harrier pursed his lips before he sighed again, "...I still want to get you a bag."

"Why?" Andy growled as she crossed her arms grumpily.

"Look, it's convenient and I want to make sure you, my friend, are taken care of," he told her stiffly before he simply walked past her. "Don't point guns at me for wanting to do something nice for you."

As he continued forward, feeling guilty that he ruined their first conversation in a while that wasn't taxed with stress and was a semblance of normal, Andy took a while before she started to follow him. "AI gaueess."

He felt his body grow less tense. "I only want the best for you, Andy."

"AI knaow."

The Harrier nodded and bit his lip, soon sighing in annoyance, "Look, if you won't be excited about the fact you're getting a free bag..." He let his lips rise slightly. "I'm going to make sure its pink as _fuck_."

When his friend gave a shriek of anger, which soon devolved into laughter as he started to sprint away, he silently laughed along with her as she tried to catch up to him.

Mirth bloomed in his shaking chest.

* * *

Yawning as he stretched, the Harrier smacked his lips as he swung himself up in his bed, sighing in relief before he scratched at one of his temples drearily. He ignored the fact he was the only one awake as he tugged on his Ligres, quietly doing up his laces while rehearsing the pitch he was contemplating last night in his head again.

Today was the Day… Just knowing that he had to figure out a way to corner the posh bastard, to hand off the letter Jimmy helped to assemble and provide the materials, suddenly made him feel as if it was realer than he thought it would ever be.

The past Days were all but to sniff at in context to how the Harrier was about to push through with making his vision a reality; something that he'd chased up to now… It all came down on him as he tried to fight off the nervousness threatening to keep him from leaving his bed, as if the planky mattress would save him from the consequences of putting his foot forward into the path of the door he could have just grabbed the doorknob of to stop.

As he finished with his shoes, he made a move to grab his knapsack when he felt himself twitch upon hearing stomps. His body remaining rigid, he carefully made out how the sadist was a part of the moving masses, not wanting the sadist to notice him as the older man was about to lumber by… That would have worked if the sadist hadn't stopped to send a disgruntled look, a flash of unreadable emotion flickering from his gaze, before following the other Reapers.

The Harrier felt himself tensing almost on instinct, immediately aware of how that expression told him enough. He simply deigned to pull his knapsack out quietly. **'After I meet with devil darling, I think you'll know better than to bulldoze my viewpoint again,' **he thought bitterly in gloating as he slid the ochre knapsack on, waiting patiently for the Supports and other Harriers to amble through the exit. He didn't want to pull out his trump card when the eyes of vultures could snuff him out upon notice of said key to salvation. **'I'm going through with my plan whether or not you chain me down to this shithole for eternity like he did...'**

When he deemed there wouldn't be much for interference, he slowly yet discreetly shifted closer to his pillow. He pretended he was fumbling his hands whilst making sure the bag was settled on his back right for audience assurance, carefully watching the onlookers as he subtly wiggled his fingers underneath the pillow to draw out the envelope. Pausing, he feigned exhaustion when a Reaper stuck their head in and was telling him to hurry up, making sure their focus was on him as he fleetingly hid the proposal in his hoodie pocket before getting up to follow them.

Andy was quick to fall into step with him, which he silently acknowledged as he was fixing his hood. The steps from her boots and his Ligres started to calm his nerves, inhaling slowly to savour the fresh, untainted smell of softener and the new feel of softness the black fabric had as they continued walking.

Of all the things that he arrived at from the various outcomes the Harrier walked himself through before he tried to let himself sleep, he would have to make sure the last thing the posh bastard did was destroy the proposal upon obtainment. The only obstacle would be the posh bastard's skepticism, distrust and curiosity… three potential threats to the proposal's safe travel. So, to make sure they did this right, he had to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary… That was something he would have liked to say was already happening, but he knew the posh bastard would complain otherwise about it. Thus, he would have to suppress his dignity to assume urbanity… bite back the urge to scream and yell immaturely... if he were to gain the posh bastard's regard and cooperation.

The Harrier shifted easily into the crowd and blatantly ignored the posh bastard's pompous speech, letting it become indiscernible noise that failed his comprehension as he simply concentrated on what truly mattered. The Reaper tried to ease his body into a relaxed stance, disregarding the itch his hands had to move about or hold themselves. He coolly paid mind to the fact he would have to have an ideal route to access the man without trivial obstructions barring their passage. A surefire way to gain an audience from the man; one without the cost of appearing intentional and sketchy while doing so.

Flicking his gaze to Andy, who was watching him, he simply dipped his head slightly and went the extra mile by rotating the tip of his right Ligre to make contact with her closer ruddy-orange boot. By the time he shifted his foot to point outright forward with his other, he made note of how Andy was desperately stifling a snicker, soon messing with her shaggy, cropped locks as she flattened her lips.

**'Perfecto…'** he thought with a smirk, resisting the urge to chuckle as he simply kept his gaze towards the uppity-dressed man in the distance. He drew his chin up to be at normal level, hoping to appear nonchalant as he wiggled his jaw in amusement. **'Everything is to be in order.' **He relaxed his face, blinking slowly before he closed them in the middle of another one. **'All that's left is the preamble to our act's grand opening.'**

When his eyes stared forward again, he felt them sharpen. **'The show will soon go on… and you _will_ listen to me.'**

* * *

As the minutes soon had their payoff, bodies started to weave and worm past his frame.

**'Time to shine...'** He gave the tiniest of nods to Andy before he led the way forward. **'Let's put on a show.'**

She took on a quiet, unassuming strut while he chose to take on a nimble, determined amble while following his focused-route through the receding vultures. He braced himself the closer they neared the nobles' territory with his gaze unflinching from the unsuspecting dapper Reaper, who was speaking with one of his, court members, if you will...

It was apparent their presence wasn't unknown, as he felt heads turn and burn into his flesh- despite how he concealed it brilliantly- and reacted sparsely amoungst themselves as he was about to step onto the soil he was set to invade. The Harrier all but forced himself to welcome the unwanted attention, trying his best to concentrate on the posh bastard, who apparently wasn't too absorbed in himself to notice them as well.

Slowly, the man swivelled in deft movements with his cane to right himself to face them, his gaze turning heedful and questioning the longer he regarded them. He intoned warily, "Support Reapers, what appears to be the matter for you to enter our presence at this kind hour?"

Even with how the words pretended to be civil when they were anything but, the Harrier would play off of it just fine.

He simply tilted his head, curling his lips as he breathed out quietly, "Oh, I believe our hello isn't in order then?" He clapped his hands together, holding the motion as he clicked his tongue before continuing on fauxly bright, "Very well, I suppose I'll just go and make this quick for both of our sakes."

As he was rewarded with the dull, polite smile and a 'mellow' 'you may go on', the Harrier chuckled before he spoke suavely sweet, "For your information, I only wish for a mere favour from you."

That all but made the Officers chous and murmur to themselves, some choosing to silently stare holes further into him, before the hive mind vigilantly drew their gazes to the Conductor. It appeared, to the Harrier's satisfaction, that the posh bastard almost appeared to be fighting off an eyebrow twitch if the Harrier imagined it hard enough.

Drawing in a breath, the finely-dressed man's lips pulled tighter as he politely dipped his head. "What may I do for such an occasion?"

Ah-ah- you see that? Pleasantry for those who he surrounded himself with! The Harrier was right to meet the man head-on and corner him in the place he least wanted to be trapped in. It was simple, if he were to go off of the posh bastard's probable line of thinking: All must maintain their mien in the manner of their court, or they would lose favour and respect from those who followed blindly. If the man was on his own, the Harrier would be given a flat out denial- outright refusal- to bend to the Harrier's whim... but such was not the case.

Slowly sucking in a breath of his own to ground himself, the Harrier siphoned the mystique he may have gained in the last minute as he released his hands. The Harrier promptly raised a finger up. "Ah yes-" He drew his hand close to his pocket opening, applauding himself for his current vantage as he wheedled out warmly, "Now, I have this..." He fished out the envelope, blinking brightly and beaming as he chirped on, "- message, you see." He whisked the proposal lightly with gaiety as he all but purred out, "But I had no clue what to do to _send_ it..."

The posh bastard's eyebrows furrowed for a slight moment, yet his face soon rested when he mused politely, "You require assistance with your letter?"

Tutting quietly, he wagged the envelope playfully as he shook his head and chuckled, "Oh no, no, no…" He shrugged while carrying the letter loosely, smiling knowingly as he laughed mentally about the man's obliviousness. "This is not just a letter." He relaxed his body and gradually held out the envelope towards the posh bastard, smirking as he murmured, "It's a…" He gingerly flapped the letter distractedly. "A little something, yeah."

He stilled the motion, pausing for the dramatic and awe-filled effect he hoped he instilled, then severed the string he was roping them all along on. "It has my love and faith that it will not be meddled with if you would be so kind to deliver it for me." He slanted the envelope to be perfectly flat, dipping his head as he finished, "If it isn't much of trouble, I would hope."

Waiting eagerly, he curiously flickered the top of his gaze to watch and see how the posh bastard would respond to such a request. The Harrier even forgone the crowd's consensus on what they agreed to consider him with, just so they wouldn't divert his concentration from the man.

From what the Harrier could make out, the man wasn't approaching him; simply scrutinizing him under his veil of courtesy. The Harrier all but expected for this to happen, so he started to run through his various preregistered preambles. The Harrier had to be in tune with the response the posh bastard may give, thus, he lent himself his ear for when the man would speak so the Harrier could pull out the right passage from his script.

"I feel inclined to ask," started the man in a rich, honeyed-tone, shifting his hand on his left-held cane as he lilted without missing a beat, "Why you would intend to ask for me to deliver this message of yours?" He whisked his right hand to his left then right side, holding it in place when he finished the former gesture. "There are many Officer Reapers who I am sure would be happy to assist another Reaper in their pursuits…"

Raising his head, silently plucking out his next lines, the Harrier inhaled before he responded fluently, "Oh, now that's not a tricky case to crack. You see…" He lightly twirled the tip of the envelope without moving his wrist from where he hovered it, pretending to buy himself the time to think of a response or ponder the question before he ceased the motion. He smirked within his smile. "Of all the… people-" Good save; calling them vultures would net in a negative appeal to his case. "- I know around the Underground, I have heard only one can directly contact the Composer."

As he expected, a hush fell over the Lounge.

Left-to-right, he felt Officers almost immediately turn to themselves to whisper or throw each other secret messages only they may encode and assemble meaning from. The posh bastard's face didn't change... however, how he gripped his cane gave the Harrier the reassurance he nailed wiggling with the man's heartstrings perfectly.

"I-I beg your pardon?" breathed the posh bastard, as if he too knew he hadn't recovered well enough to disguise his disbelief.

Behind him, the Harrier could feel Andy shift almost into a confident stance; crossing her arms as he all but passed on mirroring her. He instead mentally emulated her, simply smiling harder and gave a curt nod before he murmured calmly, "I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what's puzzling you about this."

The Harrier caught a few sparse comments from the audience, trying to school his expression as he all but waited on the posh bastard openly. ...It wouldn't do to lose face in front of them now, would it?

"How does that Harrier Reaper know about the Composer!?"

"He has to be kidding-"

"Did he just… ask to have something delivered to the Composer?"

"Is he crazy?"

"Seems confident about it, though…"

"He can't _possibly_ believe he can _order_ the Conductor himself around just to pass on a letter to someone as _important_ as the Composer-"

The words of the Officers ceased when the posh bastard silently raised his right hand, his gaze sweeping his left and right briefly before landing on the Harrier again. The man simply cleared his throat then lowered his hand, smiling with a dazzling smile as he softly mused, "Excuse my confusion... Do you mean to tell me you truly intend that this must be given to the Composer?" He paused before adding politely, as the Harrier noticed his left hand may have gripped his cane tighter, "Am I correct?"

Instead of letting the temptation of chuckling or proceeding to break down that question to nothing envelop him, the Harrier didn't try to make himself appear condescending. He curtly nodded. "Yes. I wish for the Composer to receive and read the contents of this envelope without interruption," he said confidently, not wanting to shift out of his stance from growing impatient or uneasy as he tacked on smoothly, "And if I am to be bold to request, I expect a swift response."

Letting himself study the posh bastard, the Harrier mentally hummed as he watched the various emotions pass through the finely-dressed man's midnight blue gaze whilst ignoring the rest of the audience.

This was it… he had to hammer this down right here and now for the ticket to Recruiting to be delivered on a silver platter! The thought made him almost giddy with excitement as he tried to suppress the feeling to swell just in his mind and heart, not wanting to bounce on the spot and look stupid for 'no reason'. This was the moment he was waiting for- flushing the smugness from that posh bastard's system and have their roles flipped so the man would flounder before the Harrier as all the lectures, scoldings, punishments, warnings and reprimands would twist and lash back at the one who made them!

This was _his_ time to maintain vantage- to wear it _proudly_ for all to see!

"...I suppose I may be able to grant your request, yes," started the posh bastard off as he grasped the envelope carefully. He slid it out of the Harrier's grip- who simply didn't move as he caught how the posh bastard appeared to be almost half-muttering to himself- whilst turning as he spoke. The fawn-coloured haired man took a few steps away as he adjusted his hold, his back facing the Officers, the Harrier and Andy as he added promptly, "Return to your duties, all of you."

"Make sure the Composer gets it," intoned the Harrier; his voice slick and firm. "I don't want anyone to have read it before it has been received."

He internally smirked at the way the posh bastard suddenly halted, assuring himself the timing was perfect as the Harrier congratulated on how he caught the man red-handed even before the act was performed.

It wasn't that hard to predict that the man would rip open their proposal only to dispose of it; maybe not that far off from the notion the posh bastard would turn a corner, burn it then wait twenty minutes to commit forgery and dismiss them without mercy. Although, the posh bastard always pretended he was an honourable man- so perhaps he wouldn't try to act so petty to fake penmanship… The Harrier felt, perhaps, the posh bastard _could_ go to that extreme. However... if the Composer found out about that, maybe that act wouldn't allow for things to end well for the dapper bastard.

…Here's to hoping the Composer wasn't oblivious to His second-in-command's duplicity, the Harrier prayed dryly. He might as well invite the man to squirm his way out of this… knowing the posh bastard wouldn't be fooling the Harrier easily.

The posh bastard remained silent for a short while longer before he breathed, "You have my trust it will not fall into the wrong hands."

"I wasn't talking about that," replied the Harrier coolly, simply retracting his hand as he pressed calmly, "It is for the Composer, and only for the Composer. No one else." He paused for a few seconds, soon bringing it all together as he smirked. He dipped his chin down slightly. "Sir."

Watching the man's head start to twist to look back, it appeared the man gave up halfway before facing forward again. The Harrier would have loved to hear another excuseful diversion, however, the posh bastard chose to saunter away without another word.

...Huh, looks like the man didn't have another counter at the ready to defend himself with. Or, mind you, another way to try to pretend he wasn't planning on viewing it first, the Harrier mused to himself in disappointment. Such a shame… the Harrier was looking forward to dismantling another attempt at sorry rationalization.

As the posh bastard paused near the end of the Lounge, the moment the man blinked seemingly out of existence allowed for the wonderful rejoice to enter and swirl inside his heart. And yet, the Harrier held back the urge to laugh in gloating of his victory as he finally sent an assured look to Andy; pleased at the result he drew them towards and wanted to see how his friend was faring on her end.

Andy's bright, amber-brown eyes shimmered with giddy warmth; an ear-to-ear grin climbing onto her lips as she nodded back to him tenderly… proudly… That was enough for him.

The Harrier finally relaxed, aware of how he was already grinning back.

All that was left was to wait... wait for the Composer to grant them their dream's right to exist in reality.

* * *

Andy was tapping his arm, rousing him from a sitting-doze as he blinked from the couch. He wasn't sure when he started to drift off, but her fingers curled around his wrist, tugging insistently when he hadn't reacted to her right away. It made him annoyed until he realized the posh bastard had returned.

Feeling as if he had just swallowed weights, he sprung up to his feet as the man sauntered over to him. He resisted the need to clasp his hands over his stomach as he eagerly drank in the fact the posh bastard had an ivory envelope in hand.

"Is that it?" he asked immediately as the posh bastard's neutral expression didn't serve to give him hints on how he felt. The Harrier took the envelope and began twisting it around curiously and excitedly until he noted there was an intricate, cobalt seal plastered on the back folds with the Reaper Sigil as its insignia. His previous theory for forgery was further thrown out the window when he saw the addressee delicately inscribed on the front.

**To My dear Correspondent**

The Harrier smiled warmly. If this didn't prove the Composer existed to the naysayers, this will.

Andy slowly came to his side, craning her neck and twisting her head at the item as he further studied it for a few more moments. The Harrier suddenly was wrought with various emotions, feeling as if he couldn't filter through them or mute how they overloaded him. He was certain joy was a part of it, maybe dizziness that in his hand, he was holding the proof that the Composer read what he wrote to Him... He wasn't so sure, but he almost felt he was close to crying where he was standing.

His mind finally drew him back to the present when he turned his gaze from it to regard the posh bastard, who was mindfully watching him. The Harrier pursed his lips as he toyed with the idea of saying something to the man, but then again, he supposed he shouldn't be rude about how the same man did him a solid. As much as he would rather ignore the stare he was receiving, the request should be repaid in some form… right?

"I-I…" he started carefully, pinching his lips more as the fawn-coloured haired man shifted in response as if he was ready to heed the Harrier. The Harrier was somewhat reluctant now that he got the man's attention, feeling his throat go dry and blinked uneasily as he tried to force the words out. "...Suppose a thanks is to be in order."

The posh bastard adjusted his grip on his cane. "You are welcome." The tone suggested the stoic male was expecting something... not the gratitude the Harrier hated to have said when the man hardly reciprocated the Harrier's seldom used manners correctly.

Flickering his eyes back to the Composer's response, he knitted his eyebrows. He felt as if there was a sudden strain in the air, perhaps an awkwardness… It was as if he should have done something else and yet he felt that anything that had to be said met the requirements for such an exchange. With the envelope in possession, all he had to do was slit it open and finally see its contents… but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to do it now or later. The posh bastard may not respond positively to the message, therefore, it may be best to read it out of earshot and hope the Composer had the mind to fill His Conductor in on what had occurred.

Yes, the Harrier supposed that would be for the best.

Keeping his gaze lowered, the Harrier somewhat grimaced as he mumbled, "Yes, uh, well-" He cleared his throat, swallowing once or twice as he kept his attention on the man's movements. He spoke on as clearly as he could despite how nervous he was for no reason, "That's all we came here for, so I suppose that'll be all."

"Indeed," intoned the posh bastard plainly, nodding curtly while his midnight-blue eyes remained fixed on him. "If you have any more requests that require additional assistance again, do not be afraid to ask. You may also refer yourself to the Officer Reapers at your earliest disposal." That response made the Harrier think it was from a line of options on an uncanny script the man would pick and choose from. So bland and so, so courteous... The Harrier couldn't be more repulsed they were used on him.

The Harrier twisted around without a word, setting his gaze forward as he marched off with Andy not too far behind. The further they got from the finely-dressed man, the more the Harrier's earlier excitement flooded back in as he felt a smile twitch onto his lips again and gazed down at their well-earned prize.

After all this waiting, planning and hardship… they finally had what they wanted. All that was left was to see what the Composer had to say.

* * *

It took a while of walking through the various cement corridors after going upwards, traveling alongside the timeless underground river, that they found solitude. The Harrier knew the best place to read would be somewhere that the vultures would detest going to, so they hid and squeezed themselves- after minutes of trudging up to their knees in water through the branched-off channel- into a cranny that was shallower. As much as Andy had complained on the way here about how freezing it was, this was where the Harrier wanted to be more than anything right now.

A place where only they could share the fruit of their labour in peace.

...He could exist with a cold if it meant the vultures wouldn't destroy _their_ moment.

The Harrier idly picked at one end of the ivory folds, using his tips of his nails to try and create a rip to exploit until he carefully ran one nail through the opening he managed to break into. His friend kept watch for unwelcome visitors as he worked his way into the envelope, aware of how she would watch him with a small, content smile briefly until he was peering in to see their reward.

"Yaa caourld haave jaust taurrn eit," Andy commented as he felt himself grin the longer he gazed at their answer.

"We can't ruin it," he insisted curtly, frowning at her when he raised his head and narrowed his eyes. "This is special. Too important."

"Eif yaa saay sao..." Andy sighed in resignation, shaking her head lightly. She then gave him a grin and rubbed her hands together hastily. "Then why daon'tt yaa aohpen eit? Rett's see aourr gaoodies, mah sawheett bumpkein!"

The Harrier offered a smirk and wagged a finger in her direction. "_Easy_, tiger…" He placed his left hand over his heart and raised the envelope up with his right. "We should relish this _glorious_ moment as it should be relished." When Andy stuck out her tongue, he simply chuckled as he lowered his arms then waved the envelope in 'defeat', "Alright, alright- let's do this."

Hooking his fingers in to fish it out slowly, he grinned as his heart soared when unfolding the parchment. Already he felt himself bounce on his toes as Andy clapped her hands slightly with an even wider grin, hesitating for one moment before he began to finally read.

**To My dear Correspondent,**

**Upon receiving Your missive, I could naught be more astounded as I have naught had the pleasure of receiving them in such a long time. It warms My heart to know I am naught forgotten, and are still considered by those who dwell in My Underground. Henceforth, I must extend My gratitude to You for how You have reached out to Me.**

The Harrier briefly glanced at his friend. "He appreciates how we took the time to send something to Him!" he hissed cheerfully, feeling his heart soar at the thought he was right to have listened to Jimmy to send in a supplementary message to explain themselves. With that in mind, he went back to the parchment eagerly to know more.

**In regards to the substance You have brought to My awareness, it pains Me to know the people of Shibuya are suffering as they are. I cannot be more disappointed My Realground citizens still walk an amuck path, which from it they turn to grievous actions to wrought upon unnecessary suffering onto their own without the slightest of remorse or compassion. It is naught Our fault the people have deigned to these accords, only for Us to be unable to reach and catch them safely before the victims have fallen.**

His smile shook; falling as he knitted his eyebrows.

**As for Your supposed 'Recruitment', to eliminate the 'Wrongdoers', as You have come to call them… I could naught be more disappointed. You have discussed in detail how You plan to deal with the threat You feel is to be stopped, and yet, I want to be certain to understand if You have naught considered the possibility that killing those who have wronged others will coagulate You into the same category as them or naught. I mean naught to accuse You, only to reaffirm Your reasoning.**

**We should naught tamper with the will of life, or the instances that manifest from them, as it would only be disrupting the balance of the world and toying with our morals. The Reapers' Game is for My judgement of the lost, or what we know as those who are the Dead. It is naught a playground for those to fall victim to sinning onto the Plane We have left behind; Our existences and the Realground's lives are to be separate and parallel to one another, as We no longer are connected to their lives. What You have suggested defies the equilibrium We must uphold between the two Planes of Existenc.**

**I dolefully regret that I must decline Your proposition wholeheartedly. Do naught grieve upon My decision, it is for the best.**

**Sincerely,  
****The Composer**

The Harrier read the letter again; shallowly breathing and tightening his grip, faintly hearing the parchment crinkle in protest.

"Well…?" Andy beamed, clasping her hands as she leaned slightly closer. "When daoes eit staarrtt?"

He let out a shaky exhale and clenched his eyes. "A-Andy…"

She tipped her head, still smiling. "Yeaah?"

"I-It…" He shook his head, all but shoving the letter to her. He withdrew into himself as she raised her eyebrows in confusion. "N-_No_."

The dirty blonde grimaced and put her available hand on her hip when she frowned at him. "Yaa maaking nao sense. Whaatt's the maatter?"

Instead of responding, he held his tongue. Right now, he didn't trust that he could speak without choking on his own tongue. His stomach felt like it was being clenched and rolled around, leaving him to feel the need to prepare for puking yet nothing would come out no matter how long he waited for the bile spray to begin.

He was aware he was dizzy the moment Andy turned back to him, watching her form blur rapidly only to regain focus on how she widened her amber-brown orbs. "H-Hey," she said in an uneasy note, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. However, he knew she had only by the motion of the touch. "Eisn'tt this aah _sheittee_ jaoke?" she then asked with a little chuckle, grinning tightly yet he could hardly make himself do the same thing. "R-Right?"

As her hand curled more around his shoulder, the Harrier felt his face was pulling into a blank expression as he stood still beside her. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't find it within himself to listen in to his thoughts. He knew he was thinking and his mind was empty, as if his brain itself was struggling to decide what it wanted to do with him.

The Reaper couldn't understand; it just didn't make sense to him. The Composer thought they were...

He closed his eyes.

Everything seemed to have muted in the last few seconds; he just couldn't tell what was going on. He knew something was happening, but he also knew nothing was happening to him. If he got sucked into a void that acted as a vacuum that left him stranded in misdirection, he wouldn't know any better. The nineteen-year-old all but inhaled and exhaled as deeply as he could without accidentally sputtering on the self-made current.

A small part of him urged for him to try interpreting the message again.

When Andy let the Harrier have the response back, he all but stared at the same cruddy words. Nothing changed since the last two times he read them...

Blinking slowly, he lowered his head as he felt his grip slacken.

Andy squawked out something but it never reached his ears, only dwelling on the fact he felt like he was swimming through sludge… or rather, his mind was flailing in said sludge. Suddenly, he gasped- gapping as he wildly drew himself up from where he found himself in the shallow bed of water. Whipping his head around, he shakily breathed until it calmed when Andy leant down beside him and was propping her hands on her knees.

"Aarre yaa aohkaay naow?" she asked flatly.

"A-Am I-" He stiffened after a flinch, widening his eyes as he gasped out loudly, "My _taot paper_-!"

The Harrier straightaway shoved his body up and leant against the wall as he frantically searched his pockets, ignoring how his body shivered furiously. He soon drew out his soggy square and rectangle sheets and stared down in horror at how they clung to his fingers. **'****They're _ruined_!'**

"Why'd you _do_ that!?" he angrily demanded as he instantly swerved to Andy.

He scowled hard as Andy growled back with irritation, "Yaa werren'tt lespaonding!"

The Harrier almost bit back at her when he blinked in dismay, soon allowing himself to switch to a mild annoyance as he all but showed her his hands. "Thanks for the dip, _Andy_, but you got them drenched," he hissed instead as he waded past her, marching with the current as he tried to resist the urge to clench his hands. He carefully held up his palms, kicking through water and following the invisible trail they previously took until he found dry land again.

As soon as he sat down on the cement floor, ignoring how his back protested from how his knapsack was being sandwiched between it and the wall, he narrowed his eyes as he gently rested his rectangular taot sheet on his left black sleeve while focusing on his square one sticking to his left palm. He touched his right middle finger to the inner-upper-side of his thumb, curling his raised hand close to his chest.

He only had so much time to work with before they were rendered useless.

The Harrier grimaced as he watched the frantic red and black squirming on the soaked square taot, telling himself he had to be careful unless he wanted to beset a stampede through the River and get back on the posh bastard's radar. While he understood Andy's intentions were well-natured, he couldn't help but be frustrated that he had to deal with this now. These papers were the only mechanisms for Reapers to capture and utilize the Noise through their Art usage… there was no telling how angry the Noise would be if they broke out of their seal because an aquatic roughhousing desaturated their Noise Symbol.

Even as he sat crosslegged on the cement ground, hearing the swish of the dark riverbed, his mind briefly drew back to the letter. The Harrier momentarily felt himself close his eyes as he could have sworn he'd memorized the words enough for them to dance and destroy his thoughts. He tried to gather himself together as he returned to focusing on the now partly see-through square.

Inhaling quietly and hearing the sharp rustle of his drawn breath, he held it in before closing his eyes. **'Got to take this nice and easy… no theatrics or flare.'**

He tried to mentally search for the familiar split ends of his veins to start pushing energy through them, searching for the one root he needed to land himself on the exact point to access his much required Pin's power. He tried to trickle in an eighth of his usual power when he felt it arrive at the right Pin, smiling slightly before letting it encumbrance his Ignis Swarm and soon felt heat at his barely-connected fingertips.

With another measured inhale to brace himself, he whisked his wrist downwards as he snapped his fingers.

A tiny ember sailed from his flicked fingers, observing it contently as it fluttered in the direction he intended it to go as it approached his other hand to hover above it. He waited, hoping he didn't put too much oomph into the Psych before the ember burst into a mini-explosion that warmed his hand. After the wisp of black smoke became particles disappearing into nothingness, he then experimentally touched his taot square; pleased with the initial results.

Although the taot square was still damp, he continued his progress as he heard his friend join him; she had taken to resting against the wall with her arms crossed from what he could see with his side-vision. As another baby explosion greeted him, she sighed, "AI'm saorree."

Nodding, he drew a finger along the sheet's perimeters, running it along the sides and corners. He flipped the square on its backside before releasing another tiny ember. "Regardless," he crisply returned, ignoring how drearily quiet his voice was when he mused, "I know I can't keep recycling them. Who knows if they weaken over time, or if a tiny rip from flashing them out so often may end up leaving me with a bed buddy to keep me company until daybreak."

"Sao yaa think they'rl be aohkaay?" she asked in soft concern.

"I may have to get an Officer to reissue some for me." He shrugged after checking on the small square sheet again, feeling it poke against the sides of his palms at the solidity it regained. After slipping it into his frontal hoodie pocket for temporary safekeeping, he flattened and pressed his left fingers together again as he laid out the floppy rectangle onto the hand.

He knitted his eyebrows, snapping his fingers again as Andy gave a tiny chuckle, "Haow raong dao yaa think eit'rl taake?"

"Depends," he murmured absently, pursing his lips thoughtfully at the next baby-explosion. "...Or, what I mean to say is... depends on why you're asking," he added albeit bashfully.

"Yaa raook daown, sao aI think eit caourld be grleaatt eif wee gao aahlaound aouttside," Andy explained just as he was about to set off another ember, now turning his head gradually to her instead and she grinned back when his hood fully faced her. She tightened her lips as he continued gazing at her, not sure why he didn't have anything to provide to regard her suggestion as she prompted, "Yaa knaow whaatt aI mean…?" She winked cheekily; her jaw on the same side wiggled in sync.

"The other vultures probably have their hands full, so I doubt there are many Officers around to ask for petty requests," he shrewdly said as he looked at the rectangle again and snapped his fingers. As the next ember fluttered off, he quietly lowered his gaze. "Not to mention... I'll have to spend my time waiting on them to secure my Noise safely and deal with their bullshit in the meantime."

"Then why naott hurlee aup aahnd wee caan geitt aout aof herre faasttarr?" Andy whined as she released a small groan, shaking her head as she continued on with a jab of her right arm sideways, "Waastting daaayrigjtt lightt naow…"

"Just let me deal with this." He prodded the rectangular taot sheet, supposing it may need a few more reheats before he could properly gauge its visibility.

Andy shut herself up as he worked, worriedly biting his lower lip as he soon brought the paper close to his hood. **'Looks a bit worse for wear…' **He rotated it and examined it as closely as possible for any imperfections he could very well miss when he halted at the sight of a tear. **'Dammit…' **He scowled at the fidgety Symbols on the elongated taot paper, muttering a curse as he shoved the potentially hazardous Noise cage in to be with the otherwise 'safe' square one.

"I think it may be best to trade these in now and forgo a surprise attack later," he announced quietly as he helped himself up to face his friend at peak height. He shoved his hands into his dark green pants pockets, shifting as he added with an unhappy sigh, "As much as I'd rather avoid the exchange…"

"Whaatt aahbaoutt gaoing aoutt!?" Andy asked incredulously.

The Harrier frowned, tipping his head slightly. "To do what?"

Andy's expression fell, her amber-brown eyes wide with disbelief as she exclaimed, "_Aour thing_!" She narrowed her eyes, shaking her head as she growled, "Whaatt wee werle _daoing_ ta geett aahceptted!"

At the mere mention, the Harrier's previously untroubled demeanour was punctured.

He suddenly felt as if all that he was thinking and feeling bled out as the infectious, heavy weight of emptiness fell in to replace what was lost. His eyes broadened as he failed to breathe in that moment while he was numbly gazing at his friend.

"...Wh-What are you talking about?" the Harrier found himself saying faintly. He watched Andy's face warp into bewilderment before he drew his head down to fixate his eyes onto his Ligres. "Th-The response…"

Andy marched up to stand right in front of him, planting her hands on her hips and sharply jutted her upper body forward to skeptically regard him. "Whaatt dao yaa _meaan_ whaatt aI'm taarlking aahbaoutt?"

"The Composer _denied_ us!" he shouted out with dismay and shook his head uneasily. "H-He told us-"

"Why shaourld eit _maattaarr_ whaatt waas saaid!?" Andy challenged in ill-temper, causing him to throw his head back up to gape at how aggressively stiff she held herself. She stood up taller again and whipped a finger towards him sharply. "Eit waas _burlsheitt_! Mustt haave been the Caounductarr _scruwing_ with yaa _aahgaain_!"

"It was _from_ the Composer!" he protested as he gasped out, gritting his teeth as he retorted, "How could you say _that_!?"

"Yaa said the Caompaoserr waourld aahcephtt _this_!" she growled back as she abruptly stepped forward, swinging a hand into her pocket. Within seconds she lashed out her palm to reveal an almost soaked, crumpled ball, with blue diluting ink and leftover water dripping off her hand readily. It must have been the letter, he supposed with appall, but how did it get wrecked like that!?

"This waas aah tlick aon yaa! Sao haow caourld this _bee_ rleal!?" Her hardened face darkened drastically. "Haow caourld the _Caompaoserr_ bee rleal!?"

The Harrier bristled. "He _is_ real!" He clenched his hands as he bit out coldly, "Why would you doubt that!?"

"Yaa keep terling meh the _Caompaoserr_ eis reaarl, bautt haow caan thaatt bee _tlue_!?" Andy's narrowed her eyes to slits. She chucked the wet ball and stomped down on it fluently with a squish and thump as she spat, "AI leaad this even with _aahll_ eit's smaancee-spaanee shit aahnd aI_ knaow_ this caan'tt bee flaom aah leaarl _pearlsaon_!" She twisted her ruddy-orange boot, blue oozing out from under it to his dismay, as she snarled, "AI daon'tt even _knaow_ wherre yaa gaott aahn aideaa thaatt eit existted!"

"I heard it from someone," he tersely told her, narrowing his gaze as he went on, "I know he's real."

"Then _whao_ waas eit? _Wherre_ waas eit?" growled Andy lowly.

The Harrier opened his mouth and began to speak when he stopped. He frowned, mentally backpedalling as he knitted his eyebrows. "I don't know."

"Yaa knaow," Andy practically growled out as she stiffly walked towards him. "Yaa knaow… _daon'tt_ rie."

As his friend approached him, the Harrier scrambled his mind as he all but said quietly, "I don't know…" Grimacing, he pressed a hand to his temple as he mumbled, "Someone told me… but I don't have an inkling where or when, Andy. It's been so long, and _trust me_, I know without a doubt it's _true_."

Something akin to a headache started under his hand, feeling the pulse but the ache failed to surface. His hands loosened slightly as they rested at his sides, dropping his eyes as he frowned hard. He really did want to answer Andy's questions… but if he couldn't bring out the matching piece to a puzzle, how could he?

When she was almost in front of him, he half-closed his eyes. "Don't you get it?"

"Geett whaatt?" Andy spat bitterly.

The Harrier all but sighed, "What we're doing." He pulled his head up and raised his hand, noticing already Andy was drawing her breath to speak when he went on miserably, "He explicitly told us He disapproves of it…"

"Sao whaatt eif that Caounductarr daoes?" sneered Andy coldly with a drawn-out eye-roll. "Why waorld _thaatt_ sttaop aus? Yaa nevarr caarred wheen the Caounductarr rectturred aus!"

"It's not the Conductor who wrote it... the _Composer_ thinks it's wrong," he mumbled fearfully, sucking in a sharp breath as he gasped out worriedly, "If He doesn't want Recruiting legal, don't you think it would be unwise to push our luck when He doesn't care about it?" He was aware he was meekly muttering now, "He doesn't want it- He _hates_ it!" He grabbed the sides of his head, gripping his hood tightly as he shook his head. "I-I don't understand why He wouldn't approve of it- Oh my g-_god_-" He shakily breathed out as he backed away from Andy briefly and cried out shrilly, "What if _that's_ why the Conductor lectures us!? N-_No one_ wants this!"

His breathing became ragged and uneven as he clenched his eyes closed. "I-I'm stupid to think a-anyone in the Underground cares about our cause…"

"Whaatt aawrre yaa _saaying_!?" Andy shouted back incredulously and angrily.

"Wh-What does it matter if we keep doing this, Andy…?" he whispered bleakly, his chest tightening and voice strained as he gasped out miserably and weakly, "We're fools… The damn person who should have cared about this _doesn't_." He pressed his hands harder on his ears. "No matter what we do we're only going to be mocked- and we deserve it for thinking we have the big pants around here! Maybe we've been screwing with something that shouldn't be screwed!? Why should we pursue something that will _never_ be _wanted_!?"

"Yaaw'rre taarlking _naosense_!" Andy wailed in dismay. "Rett's jaustt crleaarr yaawrr heaad with saome kirls aI saaved foalr aus this Week, aahnd-"

Within seconds, the Harrier didn't think as he watched himself as if it were an out of body experience. Andy was reaching for one of his wrists until he batted it away, feeling as if he was sucked in his body just for the sick thrill of seeing Andy's shocked face- no, clutching her wrist hard in his trembling vision as he felt his lips curl back in a snarl as he choked on his breath.

"E-Enough," he heard himself say, baring his teeth as hollowness filled his chest cavity. "That is _enough_."

Images streaked over his vision- distorting and glitching as familiar faces remorselessly bled before his eyes, feeling himself freeze at the sight of them as his breathing hitched. All the faces wordlessly shouted and screamed at him- leaving him reeling as his heart seized- his mind went blank as he tried willing them away to no avail.

That woman shallowly demeaning him and leaving him feeling small-

The scumbag sneering moments before the Harrier Erased him and frustrated that it changed nothing-

Burning eyes of the Sadist roaring furiously as the Harrier grew lighthearted and weak from powerlessness-

The posh bastard smiling pleasantly yet giving off the air of gloating and twisted triumph of degrading the Harrier each and every Day-

Words spiralling aimlessly and making his vision blurry and unstable as 'disappointment' kept skimming everywhere-

A young man… of the likes he's never seen before… sobbing and shivering, the Harrier somehow having everything that he knew the man felt transfer into him as he was left feeling his heart being twisted and squeezed and tugged without relent as if someone was pretending to have wanted to rip it out as he gasped and shuddered and felt his energy drain as a heaviness pushed against him and was almost numb-

Andy's face pleading… shouting mutely… jerking as her floating hand was yanking back… his own hand curled around her wirst…

The Harrier merely lowered his gaze and let go of Andy. "What's the use of doing this anymore…?" he asked faintly and slowly; barely audible. "We're not even making a difference…"

Turning away, he started to walk off, leaving his head low as he soon halted briefly. He drearily took a moment to brace himself before picking and pushing his way through the crowd that formed at some point. Not that it mattered to him…

His heart rested heavy and hollow.

* * *

**Years ago...**

* * *

"Th-This is all wrong…"

Lightning flashed, barely noticed by the eighteen-year-old as he pressed his index fingers' knuckles against his closed eyes. He shook his head, biting his lip as he mumbled out, "Wh-What I am even _doing_?"

Bowing his head, hearing crackles from outside, he remained still where he sat at the chabudai; alone again…

It occurred to him this probably wouldn't be the last time he was alone, as mother and her date were out again. Wasn't it supposed to be an experimental thing!? That he would let himself sit at home alone as he let his mother sort out her feelings with this man she apparently trusted!? Only to crunch the numbers as one time became again then the next again then the next again then-

Shaking his head, he all but ignored the cake resting on the counter in the kitchen, too sick in the stomach- disgusted even, as the wax was becoming one with the icing as the minutes went on. He felt nothing but dizzy as his breaths wouldn't stop coming out short- rapid- ineffectively keeping his head straight. He shook his head more, biting harder on his lip as he tried to get a handle of himself, grabbing his nape and squeezing it in spite of how he knew it wasn't _healthy_ to do that-

This was just supposed to be an experimental thing!

A scream was trapped in his throat; leaving him strangled as he tried to let it out.

She wasn't supposed to get a boyfriend, it was just supposed to be an _experimental thing_!

He lowered his head as he trembled, spreading out his fingers when he released his neck to rest his head in them. His eyes welled up, wetting and smearing his nose, cheeks and chin as tears rolled down against his hands and gravity let them escape onto the dark surface he had been cleaning before his mother broke the news to him.

_"Just imagine- Kage can now get to know you better!"_

The young man gritted his teeth, faintly aware he was drawing blood into his mouth as he failed to intake a proper breath.

_"Oh, my son… you have no idea how happy this makes me that Kage is the one for me!"_

The smell of wax and smoke hardly met his nose; tearing his mouth open to breath as he couldn't breath in from it to his dismay.

_"I know I said I was testing the waters… but he _is_ amazing! Thank you for suggesting this to me!"_

He could barely breathe… trying to gulp in as much air as he could as he pulled his hands away.

_"I was worried you were going to be angry about the idea of me seeing other men, but your support makes me feel better knowing you approve of it!"_

"I-It was s-supposed to b-be ex-experimental…" he mumbled out between desperate gasps, struggling to get up as he made a move for the kitchen. He tried inhaling and exhaling as slowly as he could, deeply even... only to find to his dismay he was deeply hyperventilating and pushed himself to go for the cabinets. He had to breath- he was only going to suffocate if he couldn't clear his nostrils- he couldn't afford to speak until he did clear out the despicable snot yet he found himself mumbling regardless, "I-It w-wasn't s-supposed t-to…"

Stopping by the cake, he all but numbly stared at it, almost forgetting the reason why he ventured into the room and found himself mesmerized by the flames of the stumpy candles left for him. He widened his eyes, half-aware of how his body moved before he could register it fully as he was leaning for the cake.

He couldn't let the candles burn the cake itself- it would cause a fire he knew he wouldn't be able to put out in his state of mind!

The eighteen-year-old forgoed tradition and tried puffing out a breath only to choke on it- hacking as he tried again. Why weren't they going out!? He tried again- ignoring how the wax ruined the icing- ruined the Kanji of his name- like it mattered right now he would be more focused on his name when he hardly _heard_ it any day!

He attempted to force out another feeble breath, not even managing the motion before coughing- panicking as the flames went closer to the cake. **'No, no, no-' **Without another thought, he unsteadily grabbed the plate, whipping towards the sink only to stumble forward- hearing the smash- coughing at the smoke- sucking in as harshly, sharply as he could. He desperately tried to turn the taps on, and once he had… an emptiness started to fill him as he watched the flames and cake disappear... disappear down the drain...

The young male hiccuped, lowering his head and leaving it to hang as ragged sobs escaped his throat. **'I-I just ruined it…' **He found himself falling to the floor, not remembering if he turned the tap off as he soon sat on his knees, slumping against the counter as he let out another harsh sob. **'I-I _ruined_ the cake she made- I-I _ruined_ the system we just _managed_ to create after so much time after F-Father died- I-I **_**ruined**_** it!'**

His head felt heavy…

He closed his puffy eyes as he surrendered himself to his sobbing.

_"I-I know you may not like it, but please consider it, Mother. I just want you to be happy…"_

_"I do not know about this…"_

He shook his head. **'I-I'm just pathetic…'**

_"Then this can be an... ex-experiment!"_

_"Experiment?"_

**'Wh-Why did I have to be so _stupid_…?'** he thought wearily; not caring if he was breathing at this point.

_"Y-Yeah, an experiment! See if you like it, try it out… An _experimental_ thing!"_

_"Experimental thing?"_

**'I shouldn't have tried to fix something that wasn't broken…'**

_"Er… like a trial run?"_

_"Sweetie, this is not a topic to joke about. Going out with random men just to see if I am happy with one of them makes no sense!"_

_"B-But- how could you say that _without_ actually seeing if it works out?"_

_"Th-This is not like you, my son."_

_"I-I just want you to be happy… C-Could you try it out… for me? T-Tell me I'm wrong to think an experimental thing could work out if you just give it one try, Mother? I-I won't bother you with it again if you just give it one shot- I _promise_ you..."_

_"...I will consider it, I suppose."_

_"R-_Really_?"_

_"Yes, my son. I will consider it, as I had said just now."_

_"...Y-You won't regret this-! Um, ah- m-_maybe _you might if it doesn't go well, but_ believe me_-_ _It won't hurt to give it one good try before you're certain I'm wrong!"_

_"I suppose you are right."_

The eighteen-year-old released one last hitched breath, gasping out dryly as he felt dizzy where he lay on the floor. He didn't even want to disturb his position on the floor as his senses were returning to him, even when he knew lying here would do him no good…

But that didn't erase how crummy he felt.

As soon as he sniffled, trying to coax himself into breathing properly again, he finally pulled himself up and took a look in the sink and faintly felt prickles of anxiety nip him at the sight of the plate shards. He sighed tiredly, scolding himself for acting so rashly as he reached in. The young man dully gazed back at his slightly serrated reflections, who stared emotionlessly back at him, when he stopped himself from inflicting his own injury from how screwed up his mind was from his previous occurrence. He almost felt the need to cry again, heat threatening to spill out and set up another attack-

When he froze; his breath hitching.

Feeling as if everything had stopped, yet was able to freely think in this absurd span of suspended period of time, the eighteen-year-old all but stared at his hands. He clenched them slightly once, holding his fingers in place, before relaxing them with incredulous awe.

...He still had a chance to fix this.

Blinking, he wondered how that thought invaded his mind, yet he couldn't make himself shove it out. He held it tenderly to ponder it.

...Why didn't he just stop it before it became another try?

His breath quickened, frowning as he clenched his hands again.

...Why did he let everything happen around him… when he could have taken the initiative to stop it?

He felt his eyes start to narrow, sharply breathing in and shook his head.** 'Like I could do anything now…'** He went to the cupboard, grabbing a thick cloth and disposal bag before returning to the sink. **'It's not like I can convince her to not continue after encouraging it when she's so happy…'** He carefully set the cloth over his palm and fingers, balancing it carefully as he drew his hand towards the first plate shard. **'I wanted her to be happy… and she said she is… so what's wrong with me that I think she shouldn't be doing this now because she is happy!?'**

Piece by piece, he plucked out the shards, trying his best to not miss any as he worked at removing the hazard. His mother would have a fit if she came home to a broken plate waiting for her in the sink…

He narrowed his eyes more in annoyance and scanned the sink several times, deeming the other shards had to have been too small to see. Thus, he turned the tap on again, interrupting the flow of water to swish the liquid around the kitchen basin as much as he could. He ignored how cold his hands were as he continued the ministrations, waving water at the sides and wherever he could, soon hoping it was enough to slosh the leftovers away as he finally stopped the tap with a sad sigh.

**'This could have been avoided,' **he thought bitterly as he made a move to pick up the cloth, only to stop barely before actually grabbing it when it occurred to him he could have unintentionally picked up shards he didn't see into the cloth. Sighing again, he warily tried to figure out how to best pick it up with the least chance of cutting himself before plopping the hazardous cloth into the bag. Better safe than sorry...

He tied it up, immediately bringing it to the door, pulling off his slippers once he opened it while on the genkan then laced up his new Ligres.

After he deposited the bag in the local dumpster, he was aware his hands wouldn't stop shaking from how cold the wet lid handle was. The young man couldn't help but remain outside beside it, even as the rumbles from the sky urged him to go back in.

**'What does it matter…?'** he thought drearily as he watched lightning crawl sharply across the dark, hazy sky. He felt nothing but indisposed to leave for the shelter of his home. **'I'm just going to ruin the tatsumi mat because I didn't think about a coat…'** He frowned quietly to himself as he shivered violently, tipping his chin to his chest. **'Because I think I know what I'm doing when I shouldn't at all bother with it.'**

He gripped his white t-shirt's fabric around his chest region.

**'Why bother doing anything when there's nothing I can do to fix it…?'**

He clenched it hard; trying to breathe.

**'I'm not my father…'**

The rain was freezing; he let it soak him to the bone.

**'She's better off without me…'**

He sniffled wetly; his hair dark as it glued itself to the sides of his head.

**'She doesn't even spend time with me anymore…'**

The young man smiled bitterly.

**'I-I don't matter…'**

Lightning crackled close by.

**'He makes her happy…'**

His chest hurt.

* * *

**To be continued... Hope you enjoyed the chapter! =3**

* * *

**EeveeGen9988: So, we finally get to Part 3 after all this time. *physically deflates* I'm going to spend a few days recharging after all the editing and fighting with my dying Mac keyboard I did (and yet I feel paranoid I must have ****missed something, ugh). *sweatdrops***

**Seeing as my brain is fried, as I usually do author's notes after editing, I'm just going to rest or just sleep it off. So, in the meantime, I hope you don't hate me for giving you so little of hearing from me post-chapter. However, I will still give you fun facts.**

**Fun Fact - For Pep Snack, the reason why I chose melonpan for the snack item was the fact that other than being something I thought would work well for the Psyche, melonpan was actually the third Japanese food I've tried (if I remember it correctly) while going to a local Anime convention in the city I live in. So, I guess you could say it's something that I wanted to highlight since I thought it tasted really good and has held a special place in my heart since then.**

**Fun Fact - The colour of Andy's boots came from the advice of another fanfiction and fictionpress author by the username of poeticlandmermaid when she offered to draw of a picture of Andy for me for art practice. She mentioned when she drew Andy with ****reddish-orange boots that she was going for a retro colour for the 70s vibe, so I wanted to express my thanks to her for pointing that out to me and inspiring the final colour of Andy's boots. Originally, I was just going to give Andy dark grey boots, but I feel like Andy having ruddy-orange boots suits her better personalitywise. =D**

**Fun Fact [post-posting] - The Composer response took me ten writes to get right, heh. =3**

**Fun Fact [post-posting] - Originally, the chapter was going to be called Mr Strategist, but it was changed last minute to Mr Salvager. The reason why I did this was the fact that while Mr Strategist could have very well worked as it was intended to be, MR Protag kind of did more of salvaging his relationships and what's going on in his life *cough* existence *cough* right now. So, I felt Mr Salvager fit the theme of the chapter better, just so you know. XD**

**Also, by arriving at the end of the chapter, you have found something again. ;D**

* * *

**NEW LETTER THREAD HAS BEEN [SUCCESSFULLY] CREATED**

**THREAD_TYPE = [PRIVATE]=[HM to KF]**

**DATE_OF_CREATION = 2/07/22/PM/WED/21/MAY/1975**

**ENTRY_NO = 349721**

**LOG_NAME = SD**

**DOCUMENT_ALIAS = Secret Documents - Entry 349721**

**ENTRY_GAME_SEQ = DAY/01/MAY/21/1975**

* * *

**Hiraku's First Report of his Fifth Term in the Lower Grounds  
\- 1975 -  
the Arts and the Psyches**

Okay, Ms. Fukuhashi wants me to do reports for once, so I guess I should start off with something simple. Hmm… Wait,  
I know! Psyches and Arts! That should be good to talk about! Hopefully this report turns out well. Maybe. Oh dear, here goes.

In the Lower Grounds in the Game, Noise are always on the prowl! Even though you have to defend yourself- Oh wait- Fukuhashi  
might not like how I started it out, I better

In the Lower Grounds, from what I have seen, has changed. Let me tell you, it's not as easy as giving a punch with a pow or a kick  
with a thud to fend off the Noise (and other people who might be fighting you?)!

Psyches are the initial powersets Players get (wow, it's weird how we used to be called Interns when I had been in my only Game).  
I'm not the one to come up with the name, but here's how it works.

From what I heard earlier, when the Composer was not the Composer, it used to be that you only got your own abilities from your Imagination.  
Something that's special only to you and only you! It was exciting because of the countless opportunities for anyone to have something  
that they were great at! But during the first Game, the first official Reapers' Game, the Composer and Conductor thought, "Wow, gee… It  
might get a bit chaotic if we let Interns use whatever they can in a fight. We should make it more manageable for keeping the Game in  
check!" So the Composer decreed for certain abilities to be harnessed in Medallions.

You were given certain Medallions based on what the Composer read from your Imagination and Composition, and created your Psyches  
for you! You would get Medallions after achieving certain things like Requests, Objectives, Missions and beating the big bad Boss Noise at  
the end of the Week they always cooked up for us! Well, once for me because I've only been in one Game before I joined the Angels. Haha.

Not only that, Noise were captured in some Medallions for the Reapers to use because, by then, the Composer and Conductor had the Noise  
finally under control and sealed within Noise Symbols the Composer created after trapping them in Shibuya. I don't know the whole story, ask  
Hanekoma.

With the Arts bestowed to them, the Reapers unlocked the potential to use Noise as a way to create Challenges and to fight Interns without  
actually getting hurt. Not for the intent to EErase, but to test Interns. Sometimes, ooh, Interns were not always up to that test. Ugh- I barely  
made it out by the end of my Week.

The Psyches could still be used by Reapers if they were chosen to become a Reaper, and could afterwards learn the Arts that would aid them in  
their duties as Reapers. SOmetimes, weirdly enough, the Arts would manifest in Interns which was not always appreciated by the Reapers who  
worked so hard in gaining control over the Arts. Sometimes Interns could Imprint on other Interns and Reapers.

It wasn't until 1940 that the Composer managed to figure out that the Arts were subconsciously leaking through the veins of Shibuya, (called the  
Leylines), which was not the intention of what the Composer created them for. Instead, the Composer managed to encapsulate the Interns' Arts  
(Imprinting in particular) when Interns arrived in the Underground which the Composer linked to Shibuya through certain Medallions given to all  
Interns.

Every single one of the special Medallions had a connection to a Leyline in Shibuya, so the COmposer at will could negate certain Arts from arising  
in Interns to make the Game fair again and for Reapers to not be unhappy campers. The only thing allowed to the Interns for Art use was the Arts  
of Scanning, Detecting (of Noise Symbols), Imprinting (To some degree with harsh side-effects on the receivers in the Realground of screaming  
people, yikes!) and Listening (which I think of it as Mind Reading) only of those in the Realground of Prominent Thought-Fragments. The Composer  
left a little Imprint on each Medallion to ensure no Intern would try to get rid of their Art Medallions, and eventually started to incorporate them in  
Missions during 1950.

However, in 1955, the Composer realized that Players (Reapers started to call them that, and the name stuck instead of Interns now) didn't always  
have bags or pockets to carry Medallions in, nor was it efficient to carry Medallions in your hands or around your necks during battle because the  
Medallions would weigh Players down in battle if they had too many on hand or on the special Medallion sashes they were given. So, the Composer  
decided to convert Medallions into smaller versions of them: Pins.

Little metal pins with special designs engraved in them that Players today, and Reapers who still keep their Pins, use and can identify are known as  
Pins. They were lighter and cooler than the almost hand-sized Medallions, and the Composer slowly collected all Medallions and started to transfer  
them into Pin versions, using a different design to set them apart. The Composer left the names to the Players who received them, and eventually  
by 1972, every Medallion Psych has been logged by Reapers and are now able to be reproduced as Pins whenever the Composer feels certain Players  
can harness their powers.

Sometimes, Players hold the potential to manifest new versions of Psyches on their own from their Imagination. The COmposer can sense this and  
pulls the Psych from each Player in Stasis to make them their Pins, and Reapers constantly have to be ready to register each and every new Psych.  
It's 1975, but it's still similar to when it was 1972.

Arts (almost forgot to explain more) lately have not always had as much importance as they once had years ago, by that I mean each Reaper feels  
there is no such identity they can have because all Arts have culminated into generic ones almost any Reaper could use. THose who held certain Arts  
in the past have retained them and there are no longer cases of Players appearing to use Arts other than the ones supplied minimally through the  
Player's Mark (which the Composer called the Pin recently).

Some of these available Arts are:

Wall Creation and Destruction \- now transferred and enabled through the Composer's recent Keypins.

Shadow Pacting \- Reapers can Pact with shadows of Reapers or create their own shadows to fight alongside themselves.

Lifeforce Fishing \- Reapers can pull their spoils of what remains of the Players' lifeforces and absorb them to add more time to their Survival Capacity  
for themselves to survive. They usually call them Reaper Points because the name of this Art isn't always explained to them as it should be in detail.

Imprinting \- the Players may hold the same power, but not the same as the Reapers can. Reapers can Imprint Realground people to forge new memories  
in case something not Realgroundy happens if it's horrific enough to not be easily forgotten. Those who had Imprinting surface in them as Interns who  
became Reapers before 1950 (before the Composer let Imprinting became a generic Art) and still have the Art today are known as Imprinters in the  
Underground.

Noise Capturing \- through their 'taot papers', they have come to call, they can use this Art through baiting the Noise into the paper as a cage for  
them, I guess? Confusing concept for me. I wonder if it's like bug catching (I loved doing that as a kid! I miss doing it so much!).

Noise Summoning \- Reapers can summon Noise from their taot paper to attack Players to defeat them in battle.

Frequency Tuning \- Reapers can switch their Frequencies to pull themselves to the Realground and back, unless forced to Down-tune by Reaper  
Sigils or even Down-tune and Up-tune by a stronger Soul from such as the Conductor, Composer, myself or another Angel. Does the Master count?

Reaper Sigil Creation \- Sigils created to ward off Noise from certain establishments, practically making the Realgroun people invisible to protect  
them from Noise influence. The only side-effect is that Players and Reapers are forced to Down-tune if they enter the establishment with the  
Reapre Sigil, which in turn means they also become invisible to the Noise. SOmetimes, Reaper Sigils get phases when they weaken so sometimes  
NOise can sneakily affect people in those establishments, especially if the person was already being impacted by a Noise before entering the  
establishments.

I think that was nearly all of them, I don't remember the rest. If I remember more, I'll make a short follow-up report detailing them, Fukuhashi!

That's the end of Document,  
\- Hiraku Maeda


	5. Mr Subject

**Mr Reaper**

**I do not own The World Ends With You, Square Enix does!**

**Mr Reaper Part 4 was written for Shibuya Operation - Story Storm (SOSS); previous chapters (Parts 0 and 1) were posted during Twelve Shots of Summer (TSoS).**

**...**

**Part 4 - Mr ****Subject**

* * *

**Months Ago...**

* * *

"Have you ever wondered… what it may be like to go wherever you want, see what you want, without having anything take you adrift?"

"..."

"Well, I mean… take a look at yourself. You have no idea where this is, or what's going on, right? You're stuck here, practically dripping from the head down with idle movement… Makes me wonder if you're intentionally trying to screw things over for yourself."

"..."

"Let me tell you…" A grunt sounded. "It's not fun, picking up the pieces when you've scattered them asunder. It's like you _want_ me to repeat what I did five hours ago, with how much you keep squirming around- giving me headaches!"

"..."

"I'm only trying to help you, my friend. I don't expect you to care, since you're broken up for me to fiddle with you... but not in the sense that I'll screw you over like the others had. ...Can't have you disappearing on me."

"..."

"I've been at this rearrangement for several days, you know. Was tough ironing out what you have for me, but I hope that whatever you get out of it works for you."

"..."

"I'm not trying to win you over, is what I'm trying to say. Protocol is damn shit, and I won't always just come on by to see how you're making out. We fix you up, then we split. Or, rather, we leave you on a limb and expect for you to pick up the rest. You may understand that's a heavily flawed system, but it's what we have."

"..."

"We can't create attachments in our field, you know. It would only make it difficult for us…"

"..."

"So basically… once you're finished, and I give you the lowdown, you then can flash out the fireworks I'll be giving you. Already got your arsenal on file… got it laid out for your cherry-picking… Or, if you _really_ love them… don't be afraid to go wild and give your opponents shit! Give it all you got, because you will pave the way only the way you know!"

"..."

"Make me proud. Heheh."

"..."

"You're going to be great..."

"..."

"Don't forget that…"

* * *

**\- 1975 -**  
**Present Day**

* * *

There was no way of saying it without taking a look at the cold, hard facts...

The Harrier tugged his blanket closer to him; frowning.

He was a fool for thinking the Composer would agree to this. Of all the people in the Underground, he thought the Composer wasn't punishing him Himself because the Composer actually liked what the Harrier was doing.

Letting out a groan, he closed his eyes and frowned more. What a loaded assumption…

Around him, the Harrier was aware of how Reapers were preparing themselves for the new Day. ...Apparently it was; the Harrier hadn't realized he let a whole Day pass by without it even occurring to him until now. Despite how he would usually scold himself for wasting time like this... he simply stayed where he was, wallowing in his thoughts rather than following his common sense to get up and do shit.

...But what did it matter anyway? The thing he enthused about and flaunted for all to see was the one thing the Composer was disappointed in- _disapproved_ of. Wouldn't that show such disrespect to rip out his all and do the said thing the Composer wasn't happy for? The message was made clear... who else was needed to spell it out for him?

If the Composer didn't want to legalize it… what use would there be in doing it?

For a long time, he laid still, shallowly breathing and hardly feeling anything as he heard rustles and footfalls everywhere. Or, at least, he didn't give a damn for concentrating on each and every aspect that went on around him right now. However, what he was aware of- what he actually paid attention to for one split second- was how one vulture peaked their head in. The Harrier knew full-well what they were going to say to him...

"...there's no time in staying there," the male said in slight urgency; must have missed the other shit. "Debriefing starts in five minutes, and-"

"Don't be late…" he mumbled out, trying to burrow deeper under his shitty covers. He felt the Reaper stare at him and simply tacked on with a groan, "Can't have you being late for something you're going to…"

"A-Aren't you getting out of bed?" the Reaper asked bemusedly.

The Harrier shrugged against the plank-mattress. "Don't feel like it."

"...Are you sick?"

"Could you do yourself a favour and skedaddle," he sighed as he all but shoved his face against his pillow. "It's not even your business anyway…" he mumbled after a few seconds and left his face there.

For a brief moment, he half-expected the Reaper to keep badgering him, yet when the Reaper left, the Harrier hardly cared if the guy had stayed out of altruism. The Harrier didn't have to explain himself… what was there to explain to a Reaper who didn't care about killing wrongdoers like the rest of them anyway? It was _that_ simple.

Keeping his eyes closed, he discovered that it wasn't so bad to stare at his eyelids than the darkness he dreaded each night. At least, for him, he could control how much he could see or if he should be seeing at all. He wasn't sure if Andy was waiting on him, but the thought of seeing her wasn't the issue. The fact that despite how he knew he was awake, he couldn't summon the energy to lift himself up and actually get his ass off of this pathetic excuse for a bed. He could probably lay here and stare at the wall all he wanted, to not move a single inch because the pressing heaviness from inside wasn't giving a damn for letting his body actually function as it should be.

For all he cared, he wasn't planning on fixing that any time soon...

To be completely frank, he thought gloomily, he didn't have a reason to go out; the posh bastard fixed that for him. He had about more than two months to sort out his assholeish self, and somehow reveal he can do things other than screwing with everyone around him or killing for the need to stop victims from falling into the clutches of the Underground. ...At least, that's what the sadist told him. Not that he wanted to do that; all he wanted was to lie here, even if he could move, and just drown in his sorrows with the damn knowledge his aspiration wasn't going to leave a mark on the Composer or matter to the Man in-charge. He could very well dress it up with a new bow and rework it all he wanted… but if the Composer rejected each gift without hesitation, then the Harrier supposed what he was doing all this time was nothing.

Lazily, he shifted his head, blinking his eyes half-open to count the number of indents and bumps the wall had. At least with that, it meant something. If someone cared about perfectly flat walls, he'd be the guy to tell it straight to wall-lover person this wall needed a serious overhaul.

...It was so quiet now… No one here, nothing to bother him… except it all bothered him.

He didn't regret his decision to shoo off the Reaper from before, and yet he couldn't care like he usually did that he wasn't with something that actually moved and breathed. Or, people, if you may. Call it loneliness all you want… but he could only view it with a side of numbness that promised he deserved this. He didn't deserve to be around people if they didn't want anything to do with him… or what he cared about… or who he was as a person…

While his mind brought up the 'helpful' suggestion that Andy met all of those requirements… he couldn't help but disregard it. Andy thought the Composer's letter changed nothing; thought the Composer of _all_ people was never a person… He knew it bothered him, but hearing her faithlessness shook him, even when it didn't occur to him at the time. He was so lost in the moment that thinking back on it now didn't do much to spur him on to go out and look for his only friend...

Exhaustion came down on him all of a sudden within the last minute he laid awake. He wasn't certain if he was weak or still exhausted, but he simply chose to close his eyes again.

The thought of replaying the nightmares wasn't a cause for concern… In a sense, it somewhat comforted him, knowing how fucked up everything was as it was the catalyst to his eternal sufferment. Here he thought he'd found what he should be doing with himself… only for it to be unwelcomed by all. He knew he was smart, but maybe he was an idiot who thought he was smart to think this was exactly what his fellow Underground dwellers should be doing to make a difference in the goddamn world that doesn't even give a shit.

For how it was the one thing that gave him purpose… it had to be another thing shunned by the universe.

On the top of his head, there wasn't anything else he could have been doing. Erasing Players like the rest of the vultures didn't really tempt his appetite; his palate still sang on the simple notion that anyone who didn't deserve to be punished here would only be soot and ash in his mouth. Wrongdoers? Well, the thought of doing his old haunt made him feel ten-times worse, knowing the outcome of those meals wouldn't leave him much to savour. Like... if you ate something too much, it would start to become bland and was limited in the dazzlement department of what it could do to the pleasure centres of your brain from the flavour department. Not that it was getting bland to him, it didn't make him thrilled to eat like he used to because of the current circumstances...

The Harrier was aware of how his mind was starting to settle, going blank as it prepped itself for sleep… Might as well bite the bullet, there wasn't much use in contending the chance for nightmares if he was too exhausted to give a shit for getting out of bed. After all, beds were meant for sleeping, not for assholes who had nothing left to do but complain about them…

...The beds were still shit, though.

* * *

Throughout the time he had been here, he began to think the Days were blurring; the world was continuing on without him… He wasn't sure what was going on, he just found it was easier to sleep away the shitty feeling of feeling nothing inside than actually caring about what he was missing.

At one point, he could have sworn Jimmy came in; his mind latched onto the voice despite how the words were lost to him. One second the Support was present, then in the next... the Harrier was alone again.

His mind must have conjured the supposed instance of hearing Andy yelling and screaming outside the entryway... He was soon drifting off, feeling as if he must have imagined it because he could hardly remember anything but the thought she had been nearby at some point.

It was easier to let himself laze and forget about who he was to accept the sweet, loving embrace of melancholia. To feel like shit and feel no shit at the same time, having the sensations contradicting themselves... made it better- Or, could he say with fullness that it made it worse for him for the best? Whatever it was... he kept his eyes closed and faithfully waited to fall asleep every moment he woke up.

Sometimes, it seemed like someone was trying to shake the Harrier awake by the shoulder. In such times, he willed whatever was left of his energy to allow himself to stay limp and try to slip into unconsciousness again. The feeling of heat on the other side of his shit blanket was what he was aware of; feeling it burn and feeling it linger even when he thought the person was gone. Whoever dared to touch him and disturb his session of 'letting everything drift from him when he was perfectly fine with wasting away' would have annoyed him... had he not given up on letting that get to him by now…

He wondered, one time, when he was awake long enough to think, if this was worth it. Even after giving up, was it worth it to stay lying down forever? To occupy a spot that could be filled with someone who did matter? He wondered if the posh bastard was the type of person to be fed up with inactive Reapers, and would throw them out into the streets if they didn't so much as move anymore... At least, outside, he would serve a purpose of setting the scenery as a human pylon, for Reapers to walk around because it was an inconvenience to them… After all, being an inconvenience appeared to be the only thing he was good at...

Maybe, he supposed, he would be Erased for becoming a self-made vegetable...

...And maybe, that would be for the best.

Something was coaxing him out of his listless ponders; perhaps shaky guy was doing another session of 'shaking-him-for-no-shits' again… The hand on his shoulder wouldn't relent and kept trying to get his attention, yet he ignored it as much as he could before the sound of screams finally punctured the suffocating veil cast over him.

Some Reaper was talking to him; he knew they were. However, he couldn't make out what they were saying. He didn't know if it because of how his hearing was shit, from the screams and yells floating in and out of his mind... or if it was from the growls and distorted gurgles…

Blinking, he drearily made out how the sound of metal was scraping loudly- crashes were being made from behind him- then he slowly became aware of how his shoulder was being shaken, almost abusively-

The Reaper above him rawfully yelled, "...Are you _listening_ to me!? We need to evacuate!"

"...Sounds fun," he managed to mumble out. To be frank, he hardly felt touched by the urgency the other Reaper had or the roaring that made itself known to him. "Don't feel like it, though." He kept his eyes shut and deigned to phase out the person's voice.

"...Don't be nuts- they're destroying the place!" the Reaper cried in terror.

Well then, that hadn't gone to plan.

"Good that they're stretching their legs…" he supplied and stayed put. Maybe if he focused less on what was talking to him, and more for the fact it was bothersome... he could very well mute the noise and go back to sleep.

"...Why aren't you scared!? ...We need to go _now_!" Ahah... looks like he was getting some progress in.

"What's to be scared about Noise who know what they're doing…?" he muttered helpfully, waiting a few seconds before deciding to nail the point of this. "Why don't you go if it's so bad?"

"...I-I don't know what's wrong with you, but-"

"Is everyone out?" came a voice from the entryway. Oh good; more useless vultures here to 'save the Day'. "What are you doing!?"

"Trying to get this sack of shit out of here! He's not cooperating with me!"

"Are you serious!? We have to leave now and figure out how to get rid of these monsters until the Conductor arrives!"

"Not when _he's_ being difficult!"

"Ditch him then if he's a stubborn ass about it."

That was the best suggestion a vulture ever had… He was proud of them.

When the hand still barely-hovered over his shoulder, he simply waited for them to do the obvious solution... then it felt like they were trying to bat away his blanket and slung their hands under his arms. Oh well... looks like they were going to be persistent. But either way, it didn't really matter; if hero complex guy wanted a quick fix, let him have his quick fix. And even if he had left, the Noise would find a use for the Harrier Reaper. Speaking of which… there were many of them? Huh, wonder who summoned the little rascals…

"He's not worth it if you have to drag him out of here! Just go!"

"But-"

"Yeah, why don't you go if I'm not in the mood?" the Harrier asked, suddenly feeling as though someone had planted cotton in his mouth just now. "You're only going to get Erased if you think you're doing me any favours…"

"Oh my god!"

"What is it!?" cried the Reaper from above.

"D-Drop him!"

"_What_!?"

"H-He's got- Get away from him _now_! _C'mon_!"

"We can't just leave him-"

"Yes we _can_ because you're being an idiot!"

Whatever was said next, he must have missed it. Thus, other than the fact there were still Noise in the room… the Harrier could say he had peace and quiet again. Good; he might as well go back to sleep...

As he tried to readjust his position, seeing as the Reaper ruined how he was lying down, he could have sworn the yelling had continued even though there was no one here anymore... Then footfalls sounded, and before the Harrier knew it, he heard a voice again.

...That was short-lived solitude at it's finest.

"Harrier Reapers: Scatter your positions, Pact with each others' shadow and do not separate from one another. You need to take down the Noise as you can and try to find the leader," came the posh bastard's stern barkings. "We cannot allow for the Noise to leave the room, lest we want them rioting throughout the Shibuya River."

For some reason, it was close by... or maybe he was at the entryway as more footfalls filed in? The Harrier couldn't tell. "In the meantime," continued the man. "I need you Support Reapers to search those who had been present in the room earlier and find the source."

"...What about the Harrier?"

"Which Harrier Reaper do you speak of?"

"The one on the bed."

"...Do not be concerned with him. I only want the rest of you to concentrate on containing the threat," the posh bastard sharply told them.

A few seconds later, the sounds of Psyches started piling up on each other. It was enough to deafen each other; creating a confusion of where one Psych would end and where another would begin, but it wasn't important to him because it all too quickly became white noise to his ears. What the Harrier was aware of was how the Conductor was even closer. "...Why is it that when trouble is afoot I find you at the root of it?"

The Harrier simply remained silent, save for the small groan he made when a shriek pierced the air.

"Explain yourself," strictly breathed the posh bastard. "Why are you refusing to leave the premises when all is but disorder as the Noise are destroying this room? Are you the culprit behind this heinous event?"

"...I'm tired," the Harrier mumbled quietly.

"I am not allowing for any rationalization at this moment in time. _Answer_ my questions."

"Not sure what's going on…" the Harrier replied hoarsely, shrugging into the bed. "I just want to sleep… okay?"

"If you must be so stubborn..." The Conductor's voice became mutters, only becoming louder when he sternly demanded, "Show me your taot papers."

The Harrier would have loved to do that if he hadn't already explained why he couldn't leave the Barracks, even if he wasn't occupying the bed that was the closest to the exit... He experimentally tried moving one of his hands just to show the posh bastard he couldn't do jackshit, only for something to be stolen from one of his hands… Huh?

"...Your taot paper were not enough to sustain them, so it is no wonder why the Noise are so apoplectic. Why do you have defective taot paper in your possession?" asked the posh bastard sternly; rips sounded before distorted yowling came.

"Forgot to go to an Officer…" the Harrier said faintly.

"How long ago was this?"

Sighing weakly, the Harrier replied, "I don't know."

"Further information would suffice."

"After we saw each other last?" The Harrier grimaced subtly.

"Oh for the love of- _Why_ must you-"

"Sir!" sharply came another Reaper's voice. "There's more Noise arriving on scene!"

"More Noise?" repeated the posh bastard in snippy seriousness. "That cannot be possible. The only reason why that would be... would be if…"

"S-Sir?"

"...Go inform your fellow Reapers outside to secure the area. Impede entry until further notice."

"Y-Yes, Sir!"

"...As for you- do not move."

Hard to fail at that if he weren't so leaden… unless the man was referring to another Reaper.

"And Support Reaper."

"Y-Yes, Sir?"

"Seek out Officer Reapers, as many as you can find, and bring them to me posthaste."

"Y-Yes, Sir. On it."

"...For the time being, I need you to remain calm. Or rather, I need you to avoid focusing on what you were ruminating on before this occurred. I am going to put you into Stasis."

Stasis? Wasn't that only used for... only used for... used for... only for-

* * *

Groaning, the Harrier couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach when he started to drift into awareness. His eyes fluttered as he tried opening them, only to receive a blurry sneak peek of the room he was in...

But that mostly entailed admiring the ceiling for a brief moment, if he were to be frank.

He gave another attempt at opening his eyes, half-succeeding as he all but achieved a lazy blink before his eyelids curtained his vision again. **'What… happened?'** he thought bemusedly as he grimaced, aware of a pulsation of his head and feeling as if he was floating even though he knew he was on his back on a…

A nice, comfy bed…

The Harrier smiled without restraint. He wiggled his head to burrow it further into the fleecy pillow below, sighing contently. Man… did the posh bastard actually listen to him about upgrading the beds in the-

Widening his eyes- ignoring the fact he kept them open this time- he pushed himself up only for his vision to double as he slanted sideways like he was a clumsy drunkard. His stomach dropped as he fluently slipped off the bed in horror before something pulled him back up by the scruff of his hoodie, firmly but gently pressing him back down by his chest where he had been originally moments later. They hadn't even bothered to unwind the blanket that twisted around the Harrier's-

When the Harrier's vision somewhat cleared, he all but gawked in abject appall at the sadist, who sat in a wooden chair close to the bed.

"What the fuck!?" he shouted as he scrambled backwards to lean into the opposite side of the bed, bristling as his heart drummed against his chest. "Why the fuck do you keep appearing everywhere I go, dammit!? D-Do you have anything better to do- no- do you do anything _else_ but stalk me!?"

As he stared at the other man charily, the sadist merely gave a sigh in response.

"Shut your pie-hole," muttered the sadist; his gaze was on the papers he had been leafing through when the Harrier had spoken. He licked his thumb then nonchalantly flipped a page for it to drape over the top portion, soon grunting, "I know you're confused, but would you wait on bellyaching until I'm done with this?"

The Harrier scowled, frowning as he set his narrowed eyes on the old man before flicking them towards the clipped pages. Despite wanting to know what the hell happened, he couldn't help but be curious about what those documents were. ...They _had_ to be documents. It's not like the sadist would be poring over a love letter… so perhaps a report of some kind?

In any case, before he could mull it over further, the man adjusted himself and the pages by rotating his chair away to the bedside table, now limiting the Harrier's previously decent vantage point. He tried not to sulk, but the coziness of the bed somewhat improved his mood.

He let himself relax against it as the sadist continued guarding his pages, quietly trying to think back on what may have happened or why he wasn't in his awful bunk. He felt as if he was weak and tired for no reason, which made it easier to almost melt against the soft mattress yet he didn't feel the need to tug the covers up to warm himself. It wasn't like being in his futon when he lived with that woman… it was a happy marriage between the bad Barracks accommodations and his old bed. He hated to admit it, but this bed felt much better to lay in than any bed he has ever come across… It was like a downy, loving embrace…

"Okay." The Harrier blinked his eyes open and darted them to the sadist. The man had already set aside the clipped documents and was pulling the chair back over to face the Harrier again, his arms resting on his legs as he leaned forward and clasped his large, callused hands together. "Knock yourself out."

Frowning unhappily at that, the Harrier took a moment to collect himself before he felt he was ready to answer. After all, if he didn't proceed carefully, he may very well enter the venture and leave with little of anything of his satisfaction.

The Harrier folded his arms and sighed, "First off… why am I here?"

"Hmph, so you choose _now_ to be less of a shit," groused the sadist with a noisy snort, setting his jaw rigid before he growled, "Here's the deal: You fucked up the Barracks."

"_Excuse me_?" the Harrier retorted with spite, wrinkling his nose. "What are you talking about, old man?"

"Don't be daft." Sadist Saiyama rose to sit up straighter; his back cracking. "But seeing as you're acting dumb, just know that your taot paper was interacted with by a Yellow Noise Symbol."

"Yellow Noise…" The Harrier grimaced, closing his eyes when his head ached. "They draw in the Red Noise Symbols… don't they?" he asked quietly as he inhaled, hoping to curb the pain through feeding his brain its concurrent dose of oxygen. "The Yellow Noise Symbols?"

In response, the sadist nodded stiffly. "We didn't even know it was possible…" he growled in a near mutter. "But it looks like we were wrong." Inhaling heftily, the sadist soon grunted after a long pause, "The Yellow ones don't appear willy-nilly, only when they're drawn to negativity..."

The Harrier expected himself to have interjected by this point, seeing as he already knew about that fact, or to have been drawn into deep ponder about the subject matter they were on... however, it was taxing for him to focus. So even though he wanted to fill in the blanks himself, his volition was relinquished, leaving him to watch the old man instead.

"Noise don't sense Reapers," continued the sadist undeterred, his gravelly, deep voice turning softer for no apparent reason. "And yet, they were buzzing and tangling together by your damn skull…" The sadist's eyes began to harden. "The Yellow ones don't even need to sense the host creating the emotions, is what we've stumbled upon because of you. They were the ones to draw out those Red ones-"

Suddenly, the sadist's expression pulled tight before he slipped his sausage fingers into his army jacket, chucking items onto the bed moments later. As paper tumbled and fell close by the Harrier's concealed feet, the Harrier blinked in shock at how burnt they were.

As the Harrier's eyes quickly took note of how there were rips down the middle of the square and rectangle sheets, Sadist Saiyama spat coldly, "They were _your_ Noise, and your Noise weren't summoned by you but by those _blasted_ _parasites_!" His hardened gaze turned to the Harrier as he snarled out from under his breath, "Whatever the fuck is going on with you… I don't know _what_ shit it is. But what I _do_ know is that you attracted Yellow Noise-" His large fists thwacked his legs whilst leaning abruptly forward and roaring out, "- and endangered Reapers!"

The Harrier's wide eyes shifted between the sadist and the singed taot papers, feeling his lower lip quiver as his ears started to ring and faint sounds of buzzes started to overlay his hearing. He shook his head as if that would shoo off the nuisance, biting down on his lip as his gaze rapidly drifted downward. "B-But… why me?" the Harrier asked quietly with incredulousness. "I-I don't understand how-"

"When were you planning on replacing your taot paper?" suddenly asked the sadist in reproach, instantly grabbing the Harrier's weak attention. "_Hmm_? A Week? A month?" The man leaned forward again and narrowed his eyes to slits. "When you _felt_ like it?"

For whatever reason, the Harrier felt his heart seize in fear at the dangerous look he was receiving. He never had problems before with having to weasel his way out of a tougher adversary's cornering... but right now, he felt nothing but pinned against the air. He was forced to face the man who was interrogating him... like he had no option to run... no option to decline what was...

"...I-I forgot," the Harrier said as his voice became dry all in one moment. "I-I was about to do it… but th-then…" He grimaced again; he didn't want to talk about the reason why he hadn't. If he brought Andy into the conversation, it would incite suspicion or whatever crap his fleeting thoughts couldn't make up their mind about.

As the Harrier noticed the sadist's expression grew less intense, almost as if it softened in the time the old man had started to scrutinize him, the Harrier gasped out in his lightheadedness, "I-I… I-I... I-I d-don't..." His eyes burned, feeling his mouth remain in a choked gape the longer he tried to pull out the information that was needed to sate Sadist Saiyaima. And yet... yet he...

...Wh-What was he doing…? What was he doing before he...

A knock sounded.

All in one instance, it silenced the stifled air and relieved the Harrier of his ability to remain trapped in the sadist's glare.

Within seconds of that occurring, the Harrier felt himself crumple against the pillow and mattress, gasping as he tried to breathe properly while his heart started to slow. For a brief moment, the Harrier could make out how the sadist's expression pulled into a sad one when he gave a long sigh before his eyes tore away... feeling his own closing as dizziness assaulted him and felt ill to his stomach again.

It was almost quiet... it was almost quiet and almost lulled him into a state of comfort... when he heard hobbles and clacks come from the opening and closing door.

The Harrier opened his eyes immediately; the finely-dressed man was striding confidently with his cane to the Harrier's bedside. As soon as the posh bastard came into view at the sadist's flank, stoically regarding the Reaper sharing the same Frozen Age as him, the man's expression failed to change.

"Has he awoken?" crisply asked the Conductor in a distasteful tone, narrowing his gaze as he sniffed aloofly, "Have you gained his testimony, Mr. Saiyama?"

Sadist Saiyama became disgruntled, as if someone flipped a switch on his mood, and twisted his great head to the posh bastard. "I was in the middle of that before you showed up," grumbled the sadist with an eye-roll, shaking his head before he frowned deeply. "But from what I got so far…" His eyes darted in the Harrier's direction. "I don't think the kid's ready yet to be grilled. He just doesn't even know what the heck is going on!"

"He will know soon enough," tersely replied the posh bastard with another sniff. "When he returns to the Barracks and finds there are no lodgings. Not to mention the fact that the Support and Harrier Reapers will not forget who is responsible for that."

The Harrier slowly started to close his eyes as the sensation of being weighed down came to him. As much as he wanted to listen more to the discussion, even though he despised how much the posh bastard was treating the Harrier as if he wasn't there, he knew he could doze off at any moment. A part of him just wanted to stay awake until the two Reapers were gone, but it wouldn't be a thing if he slipped into dreamland first, so he had no choice but to continue concentrating...

"Look, we can't be too hard on the boy because of the side-effects," said the sadist with a huffed sigh.

"I would believe the suggestibility of recovering from the influence of the Yellow strain of Noise will have by now faded, unless the multitude of the strain has now proven to stall the healing process," responded the posh bastard sternly. The Harrier heard the man's cane clack against the ground halfway through a long pause before the Conductor spoke again, "What of his disposition when he first opened his eyes?"

The sadist sighed again, "For a second, I thought Scamp-"

**'Scamp…?'**

"- was normal, but then when it came to the questions…" Sadist Saiyama closed his eyes. "He was clueless and fumbling his answers."

"Hmm, so it would appear the longitudinal intel we have on hand still holds true. Victims, when in minimal contact, rest easy when freed from the influence. Victims, when in extreme exposure, have more at stake than losing just their Imagination. For the moment, what I would suggest for us to do would be to still gain his testimony as it stands now, and down the line, question him again to see if there are any differences between his answers. We must discern there were no malicious intent to have conceived the event as it had chanced."

"And you did punish those Harrier Reapers who were mentioned to have evacuated last... right?" then asked the sadist as he crossed his arms, tucking his chin into his chest as he gazed down. "They pleaded guilty of abandoning him, you know."

"What I have done to have dealt with them is none of your business," sharply returned the posh bastard. "Whether they were right to leave him to the mercy of the Noise, or lose themselves to the Noise in aiding his escape, is insignificant."

"Hmph. You never leave a comrade when you have the chance to get both of yourselves out of there alive."

A sigh sounded from the posh bastard. "...Must you equate everything to that war?"

"What _I'm_ saying is that you shouldn't…"

* * *

The Harrier groaned, giving a muffled protest as something shook him. He kept his eyes clenched tightly shut, groggily trying grabbing onto whatever it was to shove it off his shoulder before letting out a few grumbles.

When it happened again, he lifted his eyelids half-open and muttered under his breath, "Stop it…"

"You've had plenty of shut-eye…" came an unhappy growl. "_Get up_."

"_Mmm_…" The Harrier shifted his gaze to where he heard those spoken words. He soon regarded the sadist, who still was seated like he had been earlier. "You're still here?" Perhaps his previous assumption that the sadist liked watching people sleep was a thing?

"I don't have the time in the world to waste my existence watching you slumber," growled the sadist again as he shook his head, curling his lip in annoyance as he snorted, "But seeing as you passed out before Oshiro had the chance to talk to you… we had to postpone that."

"Gee golly, now isn't _that_ dandy?" said the Harrier sardonically with a weak chuckle. "I guess I gave the slip at the right time…"

The sadist sighed at that, "Maybe you're right." The Harrier wearily watched as the old man leaned back into the chair, crossing his arms and having his tattered, khaki sleeves tousle with each other as the shaggy haired man spoke grimly, "On record, you pretty much won't be getting out easy once he does." His head slightly cocked for a brief moment. "So I decided that it might be a safer bet if I woke you before you did that on your own."

"And why would that change anything?" asked the Harrier, sluggishly trying to turn his head to view the man better. "You're hardly the one I want to keep me company."

"Zip it." The sadist's murky-green gaze took on a sharp look, flashing as he growled grumpily, "As long as you answer the questions that you were supposed to have answered then, without you butchering them, or bellyaching, because you'd rather snark your time away until Oshiro returns... " He sighed again, "Then you'll have one less problem to worry about."

Blinking, the Harrier then frowned. "Don't tell me it's about the supposed thing that supposedly happened because of little old me?"

"What did I _say_...?" growled the sadist threateningly.

All the Harrier did was shrug small. "Why do you care about whether or not you get to talk to me as opposed to him?"

"The last time I left the two of you alone in the same room together," retorted the sadist with a cold bite to his delivery. "I hear about you going ballistic because you have a problem with people cutting you slack."

"That _wasn't_ me being cut slack, it was him _violating_ me with Souls I _didn't_ want!" snapped the Harrier as he tried pulling himself up, only for the sadist to place a hand on the Harrier's chest. "H-_Hey_-" he protested in frustration as he was pushed down without resistance, grabbing the meaty hand roughly with both of his hands as he growled harshly, "_Stop it_-"

"Do you seriously think you can sit up right now?" flatly asked the sadist.

As the Harrier's head continued to spin, even when it was situated on the pillow again, the Harrier simply leered at the man.

Sadist Saiyama easily reclaimed his appendage from the Harrier. "Good, why don't we start."

Without hesitation, the old man leaned over to the bedside table. He pushed aside and began precariously lifting certain parts of the previously neat stack of documents, papers and a File to search through sections, ignoring the Harrier for the most part. While on the other hand, the younger Reaper was venomously observing the sadist from his position on the bed, trying to not agitate his lightheadedness or the headache that started to stir as he waited.

When the man finally yanked out a clipped arrangement of pages, he proceeded to leave the calamity of the now disarrayed organization alone. He held the sheets with one hand, patting them with his other idly as he spoke, "We'll start off easy."

"Uh, okay then?" mumbled the Harrier. He didn't know what else to say, as it looked like he really didn't have a choice in this. "Shoot." He frowned as he tried to gesture in the sadist's direction, only to be disappointed when his hand merely rose briefly and promptly fell flat on the bed limply.

While the Harrier's frown deepened in annoyance, Sadist Sayama immediately grunted sympathetically when placing the papers down, "Your motor skills appear to be shit right now."

"Bite me," the Harrier grumbled irksomely then scowled. "Just get on with it."

The older Harrier seemed to sift through the pages- there appeared to be three, thankfully- before squinting down for a while. Then the sadist's head rose, yanking out a small pencil from one of his pockets as he grunted, "On the Days preceding or during the Day of the event, what were you doing?"

"Isn't that a bit of a broad question?" asked the Harrier coolly, earning a sharp look back. "How many are you talking?"

"From what we heard, some Reapers mentioned you were in the Barracks for the majority of the time before the Noise attack," supplied the shaggy haired Reaper with a sigh, shaking his head whilst tapping his pencil against the page. "About four Days... or something like that."

The Harrier was about to speak when he stopped.** '...Four Days? What?'**

"When were those four Days?" he asked in return while blinking in bewilderment. "I, uh, don't believe it would be helpful for me to explain if I don't even know that..." Dammit… could he be _more_ pathetic right now? Why was he just going along with the-

"Oh, you have a point." The sadist lowered his pencil and his expression screwed up. His thick eyebrows furrowed slightly over his murky eyes in thought for some time before he spoke again, "Right now, it's Day Two for this Week."

"Which Week?" The Harrier scowled. "_What_ Week?" He frowned hard as he grumbled, "_Ugh_, don't tell me... Is it _still_ April?"

"April?" Sadist Saiyama frowned warily at him. "It's almost _June_ right now."

"I've _slept_ through nearly _all_ of _May_!?" cried out the Harrier incredulously, widening his eyes in horror. Without a doubt now, he felt even more lightheaded, and maybe even had the general sensation of being dazed, as he gave up on focusing on the old man.

Because of the apparent event of Yellow Noise being a little too lovey-dovey with him, over the fact of they could somehow sense his negative emotions… he lost a _whole_ month of his existence!? The Harrier couldn't accept this… it wasn't possible for him to have slept _that_ long! This had to be a sick joke- it _had_ to be a sick joke… it _couldn't_ be true!

"N-Nice try," he mumbled, with his voice having less of the amusement he wanted and more of the unwelcome uneasiness coming out. However, he wasn't bothered by that currently; he had to concentrate on defusing the situation before the sadist had his chance to laugh at how gullible the Harrier was. So he attempted a smile, only pulling his lips up slightly as he tried harder to chuckle at this lame excuse in the face, to destroy it right here and right now, "I'm not going to buy that loaded farce even if you paid me, old man…"

"What are you going on about, boy?" growled the sadist irritably as he was cut off from his writing. He slammed the pages and pencil down on his lap, with more force than he should have, then spat, "You should be the one to fact-check _yourself_!" He lashed a hand around in the air with frustration. "It's _nearly_ June, you haven't _slept_ for over a month, so tell me what makes you think we're _still_ in _April_!?"

"And th-that's where I'm going to stop you, buster. If this hasn't convinced you, then perhaps you'll realize how senile you are over how you can't do your basic math right," intoned the Harrier as he tried to make his voice firmer, more confident and resolute. He nodded mentally to himself as he all but narrowed his eyes to slits, turning his head in the opposite direction of the sadist. "It's simple: How many Days have I been in this room...?" he asked, trying to go to his unfavourite route of sounding sickly sweet to prove his point. If he made it sound like the sadist needed someone to dumb it down for him, he was all for it to ensure it would happen. "Come on… work with me here..."

For a while, the sadist was quiet, so maybe he was deliberating his options... that is, if the Harrier was certain the man _could_ do that. He likely was trying to make his brain work to accept and have the Harrier's logic be successfully delivered to him... which shouldn't be a problem if-

A chill jutted from his spine suddenly.

His eyes widened.

Sluggishly turning his head back, his body jolted violently as it was stopped by the large hand that just closed over his mouth.

"Mruff uffuu-" he shouted against the hand as the sadist flatly gazed at him, trying to wiggle away from the man. However, that would have worked... if the old man hadn't laid his other hand down against the Harrier's chest. It merely gave him the feeling of being pinned down like a pesky insect, as his limbs hardly moved to aid him with how his hands weakly flapped and his legs twitched seldomly…

Was _that_ what the sadist was talking about earlier!? That the Harrier was reduced to overall weakness in his body- and was practically vulnerable for anyone to Erase if they wanted to with a mere flick to his forehead!?

"Lefp grrw-" he tried again and attempted to move his head, but to his dismay, it hardly shifted on the pillow. With the sadist holding him down and muffling him, it was like he was reclining on a spiderweb than a comforting surface! The very idea made him feel faint immediately, as well as revolted while he screamed out as loudly as he could, "_Stufoph feftt_!"

"I'll make it simple for _you_ now..." growled the sadist almost in a mockery of the Harrier's previous voice. It caused the Harrier to stiffen, widening his eyes a fraction more when the sadist thrust his head close to the Reaper, baring his yellowed, half-rotten teeth as his decay-perfumed was nothing but nauseating.

Sadist Saiyama cocked his head whilst smiling. "If you keep trying to do your tomfoolery with me… I'm going to have to keep my hand over your mouth until Oshiro arrives."

The Harrier flinched, only to regret it when it brought him pain from being restrained like this. It was just like the Harrier to think he could trust the words of the lowly, slimy old man! Sadist Saiyama was just like the rest of them- telling him one thing when the sadist was waiting for the perfect moment to stab the Harrier in the back, in the moment that things started to feel remotely like...

There was smoke wisping past the head of the sadist.

The Harrier felt himself seize, expelling any breath he had in his lungs immediately. "_Fyr_-" he tried gasping to the sadist fearfully, who must have found sick humour in this because the man still held the Harrier down. He didn't even take a single glance towards the hazard behind him. "Fryr- fyr- fryerr- fryr- fyr- fyr- fryr- fryr- FRYR-"

Too much smoke- he was going to- he was going to- he was going to-

He couldn't _breathe_ already! He was going to die!

The sadist lit the room on fire like it had- The car had this room inside it! They were in a room inside the hood of that fucking Cherry-

He didn't want to die- Not now- _not_ right now- not right now when he fucking-

Suddenly, his head was turned without warning, dizzily making out how there was a face nearby that went from blurry in the smoky haze to clear. The Harrier's eyes flashed in recognition, yet he tried to wiggle his way out of the old man's unyielding hold again. He knew the faster he could get out of the hold the faster he could escape the room and, by extension, quickly try to free himself from-

"_Look_ at me," growled the sadist gravelly. That voice shook the young man, making him feel spooked to hear the man was still able to speak after all this-

The Harrier watched as the sadist's expression grew taut, somehow having an unsettling calm on it as he growled out again, "You can breathe…"

Why was the old man telling him that!? He could only inhale the torturous, toxic fumes of the exhaust, feeling himself go faint from how disgusting it tasted in his mouth!

"You can breathe…" repeated the sadist in the same equal, measured tone. His eyes remained fixed on the Harrier as he inhaled, soon breathing out again, "You can breathe…"

He couldn't…

"You can breathe…"

He couldn't…

"_Breathe_…"

He wanted to… he so, so much _wanted_ to… yet he felt like he could throw up at any moment.

His vision grew foggy… It was so hard to see… snapping...

...Snapping?

Blinking, he could have sworn he heard the sound of snapping! Where was it coming from!? His eyes darted around; what could be making that crisp sound when nothing in that damn Cherry-

Fingers floated in the side of his vision.

He quickly flickered his gaze towards them before another snap came, making him register the sound was on the other side as his eyes shifted to see that was, in fact, to be true. Suddenly, the snaps were above him, and sure enough, so were the sausage fingers making them. Almost thoughtlessly he kept following after the sounds, finding it oddly amusing and satisfying to hear that sound to locate what was making them… Although his logic couldn't nail down why he was letting himself play this childishly delightful game, it took a bit to realize the smoke was now gone.

"Breathe."

He did; smiling when his head became less fuzzy.

"Good job." The Harrier's heart swelled at that. "Okay, what can you hear?"

Huh? The Harrier furrowed his eyebrows at that because it was quiet. He immediately strained his ears, worried he missed whatever it was before fingers snapped in between his eyes. "Snapping!" he gasped out, suddenly aware of how happy his voice came out to his bemusement. Before he had time to think on it, the fingers snapped again and he cried out desperately, "More snapping!"

"Uh-huh," grumbled a voice; the Harrier practically heard the nod. He tried to puff out his chest proudly. "Good job."

A hand rested on the top of his head, and the Harrier waited for it to rub or pat his head when- to his disbelief- it simply stayed still. Frowning, he wondered what was wrong as his eyes jumped back to his fath-

Flinching violently, the Harrier straightaway glowered darkly at the sadist. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're _doing_!?" he coldly snarled.

The old man's face partly grimaced before it disappeared into a calm demeanour. "Were you expecting me to do something?"

"I asked you a _question_!" spat the Harrier harshly, narrowing his eyes to slits as he growled, "You _did_ something to me-"

The large hand trailed down to his forehead. "You feel tired?"

"_No_-" The Harrier gritted his teeth before he spat again, "Save for the exhaustion I feel all the time, I guess, but-"

"You feel tired then," grunted the sadist. The Harrier didn't know why, but as soon as those words came out, he did feel his body go slack... He blinked lazily in disbelief as his head slumped against the pillow. "Do you know why?"

"No…" he breathed out softly. He gritted his teeth more as he spoke shakily, "Wh-What are you-"

"You said you felt exhausted, even though you slept mostly for four Days before the Noise attack happened," retorted the sadist with a snort. He shook his head a few times before adding brusquely, "Comfy?"

The Harrier couldn't help but smile small. "Y-Yeah…"

"How comfy?"

"I like this bed," he chirped as he rubbed his head against the pillow briefly. When he squashed his head against it, trying to nestle into the softness, he sighed contentedly, "Ah… it's so _nice_, and _soft_, and-"

"What about your bed?"

The Harrier frowned in confusion. "From home?"

"Barracks."

"Oh, you already know how I feel about them," the Harrier snippily and smugly returned. He promptly twisted his body the other way to shove his face against the nice pillow to cement that point. "Do I need to remind you?"

For some reason, the sadist gave a smile. "Do you enjoy sleeping?"

The Harrier frowned into the pillow. "Enjoy sleeping?"

As soon as he rolled to be his back again and turned his head to regard the man bemusedly, the hand from before rested on it again, but moreso on his left side. "Do you like sleeping?" asked the sadist as his gaze remained on the younger Reaper.

"Uh…" The Harrier tried raising his head, but the sadist wouldn't move his hand, so... he kind of had his head stuck on the pillow. "I-I… don't- I-I want to- Yes- No- D-Dreams are nightmares- N-No Number Fours- Number Threes-" His head hurt after he blurted that out. He grimaced; the surface below started to feel too soft and it became uncomfortable for some reason. "I-I don't…"

"Look at me." The Harrier did that after the hand lifted. He noticed the sadist was watching him calmly while nodding. "Good job. Do you not sleep because of the nightmares?"

"Bothers me…" the Harrier mumbled without thinking about it. Grimacing, he made note that his jaw kept moving. "T-Too... dark…"

"Why too dark?" rumbled the sadist. "Close your eyes."

"...Because it's too dark," said the Harrier quickly as he lowered his eyelids, soon staring out at the gloom he made. With a sigh, he spoke again but slower, "I can't see if it's too dark."

"Is it too dark now?"

He shook his head once. "N-No."

"Why?"

"Because my eyes are closed…" He grimaced halfway through his answer.

"Open them." When the Harrier blinked to see the sadist again, the man's gaze was thoughtful as he frowned. "Good job. If the lights are off, is it too dark?"

"T-Too dark… can't see," breathed the Harrier nervously as he felt himself shudder. He suddenly widened his eyes, trying to grab the sadist's nearby tattered sleeve as he gasped out, "D-Don't-"

"I won't, don't worry," murmured the old man. The Harrier felt his body relax, his arm falling next to him limply as he resettled himself in the bed. "Breathe." The Harrier inhaled, not certain when he had stopped as the sadist merely half-closed his eyes. "Good job. Why didn't you replace your taot papers?"

"I-I meant to." The Harrier lowered his head and frowned, keeping his eyes on the white sheets as he tried to suck in a breath to think clearer. For some reason, he became aware of the fact he was hardly thinking about his surroundings as much as he usually did, now that he thought about it. But right now, the question took more precedence in his mind. Anything the sadist had said for the last few minutes seemed to have the same effect on him, which he found to be odd… Except, that wasn't important because he _had_ to answer this question!

"They got soaked," he explained hastily, widening his eyes as he tried to recall what happened. "Warmed them up… but noticed a tear in one. A-Andy…" He gulped and tried to shake his head, only for a twinge to pass through it before he gasped out, "I-I was supposed to… but felt tired, so I went back to the Barracks to rest."

"To nap?" intoned the sadist curiously.

"R-Rest," said the Harrier as firmly as he could. He pursed his lips, furrowing his eyebrows as he went on, "I thought I'd rest a bit before going to an Officer, but…"

"You fell asleep?"

The Harrier scowled in annoyance. "Are you going to let me speak?" When the sadist sighed at that, the Harrier scoffed before narrowing his eyes. He shifted through his thoughts, trying to remember the exact details that, for whatever reason, didn't come to him as easily as they should have. Frowning, he remained silent, not wanting to blurt anything out he may regret later without thinking about it first, before he all but ended up with dead-ends.

"I-I…" His heart tightened at how many blanks he was getting, leaving him to wonder if something drilled holes into his brain to have drained out the memories for him. He _knew_ he should know this, so it made him hate himself more that he was shoving out aimless answers in the meantime before he ultimately breathed out bemusedly, "I-I don't know… I stayed in bed? Maybe? Perhaps?"

"You never left the Barracks…" grumbled the sadist quietly in an odd tone, making the Harrier raise his eyebrows at the man. He warily regarded how the man was still calm, even when the Harrier knew the man should be growling and snarling, making the Harrier's Day a bad one...

What was going on here?

The larger man lowered his chin when he mused gravelly, "You stayed in bed, not moving an inch from what Reapers said… for about four Days. And on the fourth Day since you stayed in bed, Day Six, Noise were summoned by a Yellow Noise… and not by you."

The Harrier grimaced. "...Did they?" He faintly felt as if that sounded familiar... Did he... didn't the sadist tell him about this already?

"Unless I'm wrong to think you're not dumb enough to cause a stunt like that," growled the sadist with a shrug, earning a sour look from the Harrier, who simply lowered his head onto the pillow in a cautious manner. "So basically, you endangered Reapers accidentally because you chose not to replace your taot paper and somehow got a flock of Yellow Noise to come to you." He narrowed his eyes to slits. "Do you know why Yellow Noise don't get attracted to Reapers…? Or so we thought?"

"Well, if we're going to act like-" The sadist moved his hand towards the Harrier, who jolted in response. Scowling, the Harrier tsked at the sadist then grumbled icily, "...Put that away." When the sadist withdrew his hand, the Harrier rolled his head to irritably look up at the ceiling. "For your information, I recall you already told me about Yellow Noise Symbols. So why don't we just bite the bullet, and get on with our lives?"

As the Harrier tried to focus on the dust particles, that fluttered around them in graceful swirls, the sadist inhaled before he growled, "Look at me." The Harrier didn't want to, but he already felt his eyes and head start to turn. His thoughts were fading- to his fleeting distress- before he was curiously watching the man. "Good job."

Despite the satisfaction he found from hearing that again, the Harrier narrowed his eyes as he hissed, "_Why_ do you keep telling me that!?"

"Depends on your answer to the next question," grumpily returned the sadist, soon sighing with a huff, "Have you felt different than you normally have lately?"

"Define 'normal'," retorted the Harrier as he snorted, turning his head away as he growled, "All know is that your little interview has been-"

"Why are you making this more complicated than it needs to be!?" Sadist Saiyama groaned in the middle of the Harrier's speech before he growled in annoyance, "For _crying sour milk_\- stop focusing on everything else and just tell me why you wanted to stay in bed for four Days already!"

As the Harrier's response dwindled on his tongue as wordless air when he heard the sadist's interruption, his fast preparations for lodging a complaint for that died as well when his mind slowly drifted from those thoughts. The way the sadist's expression blanched in the corner of his gaze became unimportant to him as the surroundings fell away; nothing was more important than focusing on what really mattered...

The response. Arguing with Andy. Running off to calm down in the Barracks. How he had to-

His chin was grasped onto and his head was twisted towards the sadist, who was staring at the Harrier with urgency as he kept making the motion of snapping his fingers in various places in front of the Harrier's face. No matter how much the sadist's lips moved, they created no sound, just as his fingers didn't. He kept the Harrier's chin in his left hand as he appeared to be getting more upset as the seconds passed by. Oh that's right... he had to tell the sadist what he needed to know.

The Harrier tried to move his mouth, but the sadist's hand was in the way so he raised his arm, only to struggle to lift it when he realized his arm wasn't there. Where were his arms? He knew he was lifting something but he didn't know where it was, which was going to make it impossible to get the sadist's hand off of his jaw so he could tell him-

He suddenly saw the sadist's boots, but the hold on him was gone so he shouted out, "I don't deserve to be here!" He could have sworn he was shaking, but at the same time he felt it wasn't possible because his body was missing, then he was aware of how his disembodied voice sobbed out, "What am I supposed to be doing with myself if I can't _help_ _them_!? You all think I'm a _fool_ for wanting to help Shibuya!"

Above him, the sadist said nothing about whether or not that was a good enough answer, so the Harrier spitted in response. **'Okay then, you asked for it!'**

"Want me to explain more? Fine- I will!" he sneered bitterly before he cried out in frustration, "Because from time and time again, _I have_! And yet no one cares! Not even for what I tried to do because _no one_ wants to do the right thing but me- and Andy- and those who agreed with us! But how are we supposed to do _anything_ if it's frowned upon by the one who matters the most in this!?" He screwed his eyes shut, in a sense, as he wailed, "I'm nothing! _Nothing_! No matter what I do I'm the scum of the Underground! Don't tell me to _calm down_ when my existence is _fucking shit_! I'm nothing- and I'm nothing without what I do, yet I have to stop because what am I _supposed_ to do if what I'm doing isn't _accepted_ by _Him_!? So what am I still doing here when I'm an asshole who everyone wants to fade away because I smear the 'good name of Reapers' and am a disgrace to all those who came to the Underground before _me_-"

The sadist's boots started to float away, causing him to panic as he tried moving his voice towards it only to loudly shriek, "Where are you going- I wasn't finished telling you yet!?" Even at that, the boots morphed into the whole sadist the further the man got away, so the voice had to chase after the male only to find he was stuck in place in the void he was in. "_No_, come back!" the voice wailed out in misery before sobbing raggedly. "Come back- come back- come back-"

When any sign of the sadist was gone, the voice found itself continuing to simply sob that the man left without hearing the rest. "_D-Don't leave me_..."

* * *

Opening his eyes, the Harrier left them half-open and frowned as he pushed himself up. He didn't know why, but his head was achy for some reason...

Idly placing a hand on his hood and keeping it from sliding off of his head, he couldn't help but scowl at the posh bastard, who replaced Sadist Saiyama this time. In fact, with a few scans of the room, the sadist was nowhere to be found...

Oh good; the Harrier couldn't help but mentally sigh in relief. If he had woken up to another session with the sadist, he wasn't sure how he'd bear through the next painful conversation.

"I don't know if I should be glad to see the likes of you," muttered the Harrier with a huff, narrowing his eyes to slits as he shrugged slightly. "Not that it has ever happened, I suppose." In response, the posh bastard's stoic expression bore holes into him as the Harrier sighed, "But here I thought it would be Sadist Saiyama again. So I guess he must have slunk off after…"

Inhaling, the posh bastard soon spoke sternly, "You appear to be much better off since the last I saw of you." The Harrier grew rigid, warily watching the pale-suited man straighten his posture before his midnight-blue eyes hardened. "Mr. Saiyama had only so much to report, but I believe enough is enough. I will be in charge of inquiries regarding your current circumstances from now on."

"What's that supposed to mean?" tartly asked the Harrier as he curiously tilted his head.

The fawn-coloured haired man cleared his throat before replying coolly, "Mr. Saiyama had no clearance to speak with you, so long as you were still under the effects of the Yellow strain of Noise."

Bristling, the Harrier's hackles rose sharply and he spat irritably, "_What_ effects?"

For a while, the posh bastard's gaze remained on the Harrier before it drew away, silent as he went to pull over a folder and carded through the contents. His dipped head soon rose again yet his eyes were settled on the clipped pages he withdrew, frowning as he finally explained, "The strain of Noise that feeds off of negativity and kills Imagination, once eradicated, leave an Imprint on the host. Even before their influence has been severed, these Noise have the ability to plant suggestions and ideas into the minds they have worked to turn pliable, once enough has been taken by them."

The posh bastard's gaze narrowed. "Never have we seen such a case where they had suckled on negativity and not imparted damage to the host themselves, which has happened to you." His chin tipped up as he sighed, "I daresay it would be a breakthrough, had it not given us grief in terminating them… And we now have to spend the next while resetting the wards in the River."

"Get to the point." The Harrier crossed his arms. "My brain has been numbed down enough from having the same knowledge rehashed, so if there's anything new you can share..." His eyes closed. "I would appreciate hearing it."

The posh bastard's gaze flashed with annoyance. "While we have come to an agreement you had not enacted a mutiny in the form of Noise, they had appeared to be drawn to your negativity. And because you left your negativity to nurture… it has left many Support and Harrier Reapers of your gender without a bed." The Harrier opened his eyes and frowned quietly when he heard that, blinking when the posh bastard took on a guarded look. "While we may pardon you in that you were not of sound mind at that very instance, the Reapers I mentioned will not be as forgiving."

"So you're basically saying people still hate me?" Smacking his lips, the Harrier rolled his eyes before huffing, "Man, that's a _big_ shocker."

"For the most part, we have given you this room for your accommodations to heal from the event." The posh bastard closed his eyes, shaking his head. "That is, unless you have a more appropriate place to be until we have successfully reinforced the Barracks from future intrusions."

"Is this the real reason why you're here?" asked the Harrier in contempt, groaning before he sighed, "Because, believe me, the last thing you would want to talk about with me is where I would set up camp for the night after your generosity has worn off."

The man's lips pursed, soon narrowing his eyes as he placed the papers back in and started to set aside the folder on the bedside table. From the neatly stacked pile, that must have been organized since the Harrier was knocked out, the posh bastard drew out clipped pages. As he began flipping through the contents, the Harrier noticed the pages would flop over the top… Huh, he could have sworn-

"While it may be improper to, 'cut to the chase'," began the posh bastard in a distinctly sharp, biting delivery. This caused the Harrier to raise an eyebrow, as he found it was strange to hear that type of tone being used by the otherwise fauxly polite man... He dismissed his observation briefly when the posh bastard cleared his throat, watching as the man soon smiled in an unassuming matter... However, the Harrier could pick out how cold it actually was, which only drew back his earlier suspicions on the matter of how the man wasn't acting as he usually did.

...Yeah, the posh bastard _definitely_ wasn't acting like himself.

Upon having that thought, the Harrier felt his body tense as the man murmured shallowly, "I simply cannot help but wonder… how you have done it." The same smile remained... and that probably wasn't a good thing. The Harrier could come up with thousands of reasons why the posh bastard may be acting weird like this, had the Harrier not realized the posh bastard was intentionally trying to meet the Harrier's gaze.

**'Why does he want to see my reaction?' **the Harrier thought warily, lowering his arms. He gripped the soft blanket tightly and frowned deeply.** 'But what does he mean by-'**

"During the previous Week," crisply said the posh bastard as he raised his chin, grimly pursing his lips when he breathed out icily, "The numbers of deaths in the Realground is paramount to the total mortality you had a hand in doing on a Weekly basis, if you must know."

"Oh, so there's been a trigger happy lunatic on the loose?" The Harrier tilted his head in curiosity, yet the bewilderment he actually felt inside had his body on edge. Just the thought of a killer going ballistic like this made a part of the Harrier itch to pull himself over to the Realground and put an end to the guy… But the bitter reminder that it wasn't going to make a difference, and how the Composer wouldn't favour it, made him immediately dispose of the idea.

"That's a shame…" he crestfallenly added as he frowned. "Looks like the Player count will be large this Week then."

For some reason, the posh bastard didn't seem pleased by that. Well, no one would be pleased to know a killer was making it easier for Reapers to get their meals, but shouldn't the posh bastard look less… how should he put it… choleric? The man virtually appeared stiff and lacked the usual ease in his voice when he barked out, "_Explain yourself_!"

Straightaway, the Harrier's frown became nonplussed. "Wait, what- Explain what?"

"Do not act _witless_," the posh bastard growled, clenching his hands on his lap as he openly glared at the Harrier. "A total of seventy people died in Shibuya last Week. Notwithstanding the total number, of those seventy people…" The posh bastard stole a quick look at the page he had been looking at before glaring daggers at the Harrier again. "_Fifty-three_ of which were not of natural causes- _forty-nine_ of which were not reportedly caused by anyone from the _Realground_!"

As the Harrier leaned backwards, remaining aware of how he should keep himself from going farther as to not fall off the bed, he kept his wide eyes on the Conductor as the man yelled out, "Of all the limits you have pushed in my regard, this will be the _last_ that you will pillory me!"

"Wait a minute-" the Harrier started in annoyance, scowling quickly as he retorted, "Are you seriously accusing me of being involved with those deaths!?"

"To be frank, did you really think you could slip under my nose with such an outrageous amount of murders?" barked the Conductor in humourless laughter, his shoulders rigid as his dark gaze blazed with fury. "Do not give yourself credit in creating a story for yourself to hide under… A Harrier Reaper, who never cooperates with authority anymore, last Week spending the majority of it lying in his bed in the Barracks, when we have evidence that you avoid it at every possible waking moment, has not gone out to kill Realground denizens when he has been doing such a deed for Weeks because of his ill perception that he is killing for justice…!?"

His gaze hardened and his lips pursed. "Do you honestly believe me to be a fool to not see what you are doing? You are staging yourself to be innocent to sneak away to kill Realground denizens when no Reaper is around, and have been returning to the Barracks to keep your alibi alive."

"I have not left the Shibuya River…" The Harrier shook his head slowly, all the while glaring back at the man, gritting his teeth as he grounded out, "_I swear_… _trust me_…"

"Why should I when the evidence returns to you?" asked the Conductor sternly, frowning deeply as he closed his eyes. "It has always returned to you."

"Whoever lied to you... oh man, they certainly have a _damn_ sense of humour," bitterly said the Harrier with a smile, clenching his hands to fists as he leered coldly. "Eyewitnesses said I was in the Barracks since Day Two of last Week… and I'm not going to milk the idea because it actually _is_ true."

That seemed to catch the posh bastard off-guard, yet the Harrier didn't care. Just hearing about how this man thought the Harrier was the one killing people made the Harrier livid, but he tried to ground himself as to not lose control of his actions like he had previously. He lowered his head, laughing dryly, "Of course, of course… You may _think_ it's linked to me because that is _all_ but the norm…" His gaze sharpened. "But what if I tell you you're the one slandering me without fact-checking."

"...You mean to tell me that you are not responsible for the deaths?" asked the posh bastard reluctantly; how cute. How cute it was to see that of all the man's hoity-toity assness and arrogance… he wasn't bright enough to back his useless claims up effectively… It made the Harrier sick- disgusted, that the posh bastard would jump the gun like this. Although, he couldn't blame the man for assuming… yet he couldn't really let himself forgive the posh bastard's current actions, seeing that this loaded shit was contrary to the truth.

Rearing his head, the Harrier pointed at the man. "Glad we're on the same page now." He set his jaw rigid as he scoffed, "But your assumption that I killed people has not made this Harrier a happy, happy Reaper, you see…"

The posh bastard merely gazed back down at the pages, appearing lost as he silently carded through the sheets again. However, the Harrier couldn't stand another second looking at this sorry excuse for a person.

Shoving the blankets off of himself, the Harrier was glad his hands weren't as weak as they had been when he had last awoken and pulled his legs over to the edge of the bed- opposite to the one with the posh bastard- with ease. As he carefully lowered one foot down before the other, using the bed as support in case the lack of activity his limbs had would send him reeling to the ground, he expelled a sigh of relief when he hardly swayed and didn't feel his knees buckle from under himself.

As soon as the Harrier let go of the bed, pivoting to send a scowl to the Conductor, the posh bastard already was giving him a suspicious look. "Where do you believe you are going?" asked the man tersely.

"I'll thank you for the bed, at least," scoffed the Harrier coldly, lifting his chin as he crossed his arms. "But the wrongful accusation…?" He smacked his lips, pursing and pinching them as he huffed, "That, posh bastard, has given me enough to believe the welcome wagon has abandoned the horizon."

"So you will be departing…" noted the posh bastard coolly, yet the Harrier pretended the man didn't have a hint of regret in his voice.

"Why aren't you happy about the arrangement?" asked the Harrier shallowly with a frown. "I certainly am not, but what's to say that you shouldn't be when you'll finally be rid of me?"

"The Barracks are not suitable until the wards have been properly established," merely returned the posh bastard with a sniff. "As I was mentioning earlier, the Support and Harrier Reapers will need to settle themselves until-"

"After all the bullshit I've had this month…" The Harrier narrowed his eyes to slits. "Forget it."

"I beg your pardon." As the posh bastard straightened himself, sitting up tall with a dubious raise of his eyebrow, he clasped his hands together on the papers in his lap as he breathed, "But what do you mean by that?"

Frowning bitterly at the man, the Harrier shook his head. "I'm leaving."

"Yes, I can tell," said the posh bastard with a curt nod.

"Ah-buh-buh-buh-" The Harrier raised a finger in the air, frowning hard as he waved it at the man while he growled, "I wasn't finished." When the posh bastard's expression oozed how displeased he was with the Harrier from the rightful disrespect, the young Reaper sucked in a steadying breath of oxygen before he huffed, "I'm leaving…" He gritted his teeth. "But I'm not coming back."

When the Harrier watched the posh bastard reach for his cane by the table after placing the clipped pages down, rising to his feet carefully when he had it, the man's midnight-blue eyes were darkened. "What do you mean to say?"

The Harrier simply sighed out, "Do I _really_ need to spell it out for you?" He threw his left arm towards the door behind the Conductor while his right hand was slapped to his chest, shifting his feet as he growled, "I'm not going to put up with any more of the bullshit you've given me. When I first arrived here on this Plane, became a Reaper… I thought I could rough it here _no_ _problemo_. You know?" He lowered his arms, steeling his gaze as he bitterly spat, "But when you started to constantly be on my ass about every, single, fucking thing, that I can't help but do because it's how I am now… this place**,** that I thought could become a home for me, became the _last_ place I wanted to stand in.

"I doubt you know what happened to me before I became a Reaper, or why you keep thinking I'm going places I shouldn't be," he continued icily, shaking his head as he gritted his teeth. "But out here-" He opened his arms up, trying to lock onto the man's midnight blue with his own gaze. "- in the River-" He dropped his arms. "I _loathe_ to breathe the same air you do," he hissed, narrowing his eyes as they hardened. "I _loathe_ being somewhere where I know I'm not safe from anyone who regularly picks a bone with me...

"Being treated like I'm nothing- being treated like I'm an _embarrassment_!?" He clenched his eyes closed. "If it was your plan to chip away at who I am, what I could be, to _nothing_…" His lips pursed as he quietly breathed, "Your wish has been granted."

"And what has that to do with where you will be lodging?" asked the posh bastard with a disdainful sniff. "I have given you plenty of opportunities to show you can be an invaluable aspect to the Underground, yet you spit at the hands that only offer to help you…"

"For your concern," the Harrier retorted rudely, shaking his head. "Why should _you_ care about me?" He swayed his hands in front of his chest to gesture towards himself. "There's nothing for me here-" He whisked his palms up. "Nothing for me out there-" He lowered his head and his arms sadly. "What use is there for me to be anywhere...?"

The posh bastard's expression altered to be almost pensive. "You do have a place among Reapers… as long as you are the Reaper you are supposed to be."

Feeling heat behind his eyes, the Harrier gritted his teeth. "Don't _lie_ to me..." He tried to resist the urge to let his tears leak out, yet the sides of his eyes started to feel wet. "If you actually _cared_ about your Reapers, you wouldn't stoop to making their lives miserable."

For a while, it was silent… then the Conductor broke it with a long sigh, "You may have forgotten... " The man's gaze became hardened. "You were sensible once."

"...I still am." The Harrier clenched his hands.

"You may have fared better if you went back to the Realground, when you were granted that honour," coolly said the Conductor with a purse of his lips, closing his eyes as he went on, "But, even here, when you started to blossom after your training… you had a chance to grow further."

The Harrier scoffed at that. He turned his head away, frowning angrily as he growled, "You _sure_ have a way with words in making someone feel better."

"And you still have that chance, if you can comprehend what you had chosen to do from that Day onwards is wrong, and move on instead of treading backwards," added the posh bastard stiffly, and the Harrier huffed at how that man had the audacity to still ignore him. The posh bastard then placed his other hand on his cane as he dipped his head. "I can be a merciful man… if you give me time to prove that to you."

"Why prove anything when you don't _want_ to prove anything to me but to show how much you can _torment_ me?" retorted the Harrier crossly as he raised his head, steeling his gaze as he let out a growl, "It's not about proving anything to me, anyway. I'm just fed up with you, _all_ of you, and I don't want to be _near_ you…" He tightened his hands, feeling them protest in pain as he went on severely, "You're just as blind as the Realground for seeing the Underground! I'm not here to _serve_ you, I'm here for me- and _only_ me-"

His hackles rose as he snarled out, "It's my existence- _got it_!?"

He stomped down hard and harshly breathed as he glared at the posh bastard, who stoically watched him, and rawfully grounded out, "As long as I still waste your space and resources… I'm not going to let you dictate how I act or how I run myself into the ground!" He frowned deeply, shaking his head as he growled, "I didn't kill those Realground citizens as much as you want me to confess that I did, so don't think I'm the only one needing to set their priorities straight!"

The Harrier thumped his chest and left his hand there; his gaze sharpened. "So as long as you do what you do, I'll do what I'll do- And if through sheer luck we may be able to miss, and never catch another glimpse of each other _ever_ again... then so be it. It's _none_ of your business what I do as long as it doesn't impact the Game…" He narrowed his shadowed eyes. "So, in case you were wondering, I plan on being the asshole that I am, while I ride my Points to wherever the fuck I'll land myself in. Be it a hole, be it a dumpster..."

His lips pursed. "Be it Erasure."

With that, the Harrier strode past the foot of his bed and the other man, scooping up his knapsack by the strap nearby the door and stormed out.

* * *

In the streets, the Harrier didn't stop walking, keeping to the same angry stomps as he grew farther and farther away from the Shibuya River. He didn't bother to reequip his Pins that he found clipped to the top of his ochre knapsack; he didn't want to stall himself from getting enough distance in to clear his mind after speaking with that bastard.

And yet, of all the places he stopped for a breather, it was Hachiko's statue. ...Maybe he underestimated his body's abilities after lying in a bed for so long.

Sighing, the Harrier spun around and lowered himself to the ground to sit beside the dog statue, staring forward absently like it was doing. He put his elbows on his legs and his hands on his cheeks, mulling over the fact this wasn't how he pictured leaving the Shibuya River would be like. But it would appear as though this was his existence, he reminded himself, as shitty as it has always been. If he could find solace with Hachiko here, perhaps his mind was still in working order, after all.

**'Man… it must be nice for you,'** he thought dolefully, slightly shifting his gaze to check on the dog sitting on the raised slab as he frowned. **'Knowing you had a place to be every Day… knowing you had a duty to uphold…'** He smiled bitterly. **'Now that begs the question of what I should be doing.'**

Closing his eyes, he simply tried to allow himself to calm down. In the distance, he knew Reapers were already doing their thing with the Players… yet the urge to join in for the kerfuffle was now good as dead. If he couldn't kill and Erase wrongdoers… and he hated Erasing Players who were innocent… what kind of Reaper was he? The whole spiel behind Reapers, from his understanding, was that Reapers Erases Players, and Reapers Processes the Dead into Players… There was nothing more, nothing less…

Well, to be frank, the thing that made Harrier Reapers tick was the whole idea of being constantly on the hunt for their meals. Support Reapers served to impede Players' progress through Wall Objectives and Erase Players if an unPacted Player's timer bled to zero. Officer Reapers… well, to him, may as well be over-glorified members of the Underground who were a part of the Conductor's court. Yeah, that works. Officer status was status and only status… They probably were sipping away at their rice wine right now- as he was thinking- and laughing as the Conductor joined them for a spell of story swaps over how much of a fool the Harrier was...

Scrunching up his nose at that, the Harrier opened his eyes and boredly took to watching the shaded, translucent figures of Realground citizens. Just glancing around him made his heart ache from how mindlessly happy there were, unaware of how they may be taking their lives for granted… He shooed off Thought Fragments that tried to invade his personal space, not wanting to hear about what shoes Raika bought or how Yokitsuru landed the date he was nervous about. It left him in a somewhat sour, somewhat dreary mood as he quietly schooled his expression while he continued his Realground-watching.

It took all of his willpower to not cringe when primary school kids stepped through him to ogle at Hachiko, hating the fuzzy vibrating sensation that caused a shiver to go up his spine. He sighed, trying to shrug off the annoyance it brought him as he rested harder on his palms; the pressure on his legs became a noticeable ache. **'What's wrong with these people…? How can they be so carefree when they're forgetting about the responsibilities they have?'**

Looking to Hachiko again, he blinked at the frozen dog. **'Don't you get annoyed when kids try to climb on you when they shouldn't be?'**

Hachiko merely kept staring forward like the good sentry he was.

The Harrier smiled back. **'Well, you're just a dog, I guess.' **Turning his head forward again, his expression became neutral.** 'You won't get bogged down like the **_**good**_** trooper you are.'** He smiled again. **'_Yes_ you are.'**

When he became aware of how tired his back was starting to become, he unslung his knapsack and twisted it around to lay it in his lap. As his Pins glinted in the gentle morning light, he fondly smiled and admired each of them as he began taking them off and pinning them to his grey undershirt.

First, good old Cripplecheck. He double-checked with a mere twitch to see the hidden metallic glint gloss over before placing it on.

Second, Virtuoso; a blue-grey Pin with a music note in the middle, surrounded by a greyish aura darkening and fading to dark blue-grey.

Third, Alla Breve; a dark blue-grey Pin with various lighter blue-grey versions of ledger lines with five transient black-to-white notes going up the bars.

Fourth, Shinin' Spotlight; a mauve Pin with five variously lighter purple streams of light coming from a blue-grey eye- with white uneven dots- almost in the dead centre of the Pin.

Fifth, Shadow's Play; the dark grey pin with a black shadow having one ebony eye and another off-centre, dark grey one overlapping it with its own eye, sharing one lopsided smile that stretched between the two of them. He couldn't help but try to imitate it, chuckling in amusement before putting Shadow's Play on. He just couldn't understand why Andy found this Pin to be so creepy...

And, finally, Ignis Swarm; a black Pin mottled over with variously sized speckles and blobs, that were the colours of Autumn leaves, to form a gorgeous collage.

When he released the collar of his hood, he closed his eyes as he felt the thrum of energy from his Pins return to him. Buzzing to the beat of his heart… soothing him as he felt relief that he had them back on again. Being one of the very few Players who happened to find that he had received six beautiful Pins... made him feel almost as if he was special. Not the 'I'm better than you' special, moreso that he had gotten a lucky cut from cloth that proved to be _very_ useful…

Although, now that he thought about it… he's hardly had to use them nowadays.

It brought a frown to his face as he tried pondering about when the last time was that he fought with his trusty Pins, finding that he couldn't put a name to a recent time he had to pull out these big guns and lay down his enemies to rest. He drew up a hand and held his chin, knitting his eyebrows as he sadly mused that he couldn't just let himself get rusty. Noise don't attack Reapers, which was a given. So, if he wanted to fight something, he would have to capture some Noise and-

...Dammit. Did he even get new taot papers?

Straightaway, he began checking his trouser pockets, grimacing as he came up empty before whipping his hands to his knapsack zippers. Within half a moment, he drew back his hands. The thought of the posh bastard or Sadist Saiyama slipping in a few out of the goodness of their hearts would never be a thing.

**'Figures.' **The Harrier simply sighed in disappointment as he slumped onto his knapsack.** 'Of all the things I could have forgotten to do… I forgot to get something that's vital to my role as a Harrier Reaper.' **A few seconds later, it occurred to him that it didn't really matter if he had taot papers. If he wasn't going to Erase any type of Player, what would he need them for? He let himself dwell on the subject matter as he rested on his bag, but still scolded himself for not thinking about this beforehand.

Just as he was trying to let his mind empty for a bit, hoping that could stop his bad luck from seeping in more, he could have sworn he heard stomps… Widening his eyes, he yanked himself out of the slump and hugged his knapsack to his chest, straining his ears for a bit before he narrowed his eyes. **'Fucking hell…'** He gritted his teeth. **'I'm **_**not**_** going to let that old man ruin my Day.'**

Quickly pivoting, he pushed hard on his feet to start running away. He haphazardly slung one strap over his shoulder, struggling to slip his other arm through the abandoned strap as he could have sworn Sadist Saiyama was calling out for him… Well, the Harrier would only hope it was another Harrier Reaper, seeing as the old man didn't have a name to use for him.

"Scamp!"

...Forget that last part. This was the time to get the hell out of here and pray hard that the sadist wouldn't give chase.

As he flew into the Scramble Crossing, pretending cars weren't almost slamming into him, he only stopped to bounce on his toes while whipping his head back and forth and around in panic over which direction he could go. He wasn't sure which Routes were open for the Mission today- not to mention the Mission itself- as he was well aware of how the sadist was growing closer…

Randomly picking one, he sprinted for the Route leading to the north-west districts only to cry out as he bounced off of a diamond flickering Wall. He placed his hands over his throbbing nose, groaning in pain as he scowled vexedly at the red-hooded Reaper who didn't react to how the Harrier did a Player-move. The Harrier wasn't going to spend time asking for this Support to lower their Wall… there were rules about keeping Walls up until the Mission of each Day ended. That is, unless Harriers could ask nicely for an off-duty Support to help them with whatever shit they needed the Support for. But unfortunately, this wasn't one of these occasions, and the Harrier didn't have a solid reason to lug a Support around.

Trying to calculate how much distance he could buy back with another Route, the Harrier's eyes burned as he kept his hands on his face while he bolted for the Route next to- he skidded to a halt before receiving the same fate. Giving out a muffled yell as his hands felt like they rubbed against a serrated knife, the Harrier didn't bother to wait for the daze to go away as he all but staggered over to the only other Route he could take: Circle Link.

With one look in the direction of Hachiko's statue, he noticed the sadist was standing in the way and watching him from afar before cursing under his breath. He promptly turned to face the final Support Reaper. "Isz yorr Warll opin?"

"Uh…" The Support's lower jaw shifted; was he grimacing? "Are you… okay...?"

"Plrese anshwuer the queestun," the Harrier intoned back through his stinging hands, adjusting them when his nose started to buzz.

The Support was silent for a while before shaking his head with a sigh, "No... Didn't you hear the Mission is in Dogenzaka?"

"Ohg reailly?" the Harrier breathed in a falsely sounding spirited tone then grumbled under his breath, "Thaas's _sow_ peaatchy to knoaw… thaaanks yew…"

Feeling as if he were an animal with a tail between his legs, the Harrier sulked as he stalked over to the centre of the intersection and mentally screamed in his head. He still hated how much it hurt to slam into Walls... When he initially encountered one, he only experimentally slid a finger across it after Number One was deflected off, regretting later how much it felt like he sliced open his finger.

As he moaned in pain at the thrum that started going through his nose, grimacing and scolding himself about what he could do now, Sadist Saiyama was on the move. The Harrier hated how he had nowhere to run, irately cursing the posh bastard's logic of how Walls were to be maintained, even if they weren't needed, was to bar Players' paths in case something incidentally happened to the other Walls as the shaggy haired man stomped closer.

He could always escape through the Realground, but running around with a bloody nose and wounded hands would only slow him down and attract undivided attention. People would stare at him, people would feel concern for him… and people would try to help him. He couldn't afford to go to the hospital when it wasn't authorized for Reapers; it would use up resources that were for those who actually needed it and the posh bastard would have an aneurism if he found out the Harrier was carted to one.

It frustrated the Harrier even more that, in the heat of the moment, he didn't slip into the Realground before he foolishly injured himself. It was just _dandy_ he didn't look over his options properly and had to face the consequences because of that... and this was exactly why he kept telling Andy they shouldn't be running off without a plan! If the Harrier wasn't having a godawful Day... he wouldn't be in this bind! Yes, the Harrier resigned to accept, he wouldn't be trapped here if it weren't for the fact everything was shitting down on him and now he was waist-deep in it! And now- _now_ he had to live with this because the fucking sadist himself has come to torture him... Why not give him the posh bastard to top it all off!? The Harrier certainly thought it wasn't bad enough, so surely the universe would pour more of its love into him by throwing devil darling into the mix! It wasn't beneath it to crap more on him... so why not!?

Aware of how the burly man had just halted, the Harrier refused to turn around or speak to the ex-army man.

"That must have hurt," rumbled the sadist as the Harrier felt the man tower over him. "Looked like a nasty-"

The Harrier merely shook his head and vehemently kept his scowl in the other direction.

All the sadist did in response was sigh, "Alright, alright…" The Harrier felt a twitch of annoyance as Sadist Saiyama stomped around, trying to pivot himself away only to pause at how matter-of-fact the sadist appeared. The Harrier couldn't help but frown when that observation resulted in the burly man's success in facing the younger Reaper now. "You know you can heal yourself with your Points, right?"

It was bad enough the old man wouldn't stop running into him… degrading him through the last time they saw each other… but now? Looks like the old man thought he was better than the Harrier if the man was acting like the Harrier didn't know jackshit about what his Points would do for him. However, what made the Harrier feel acrimonious was the fact that the sadist likely knew the Harrier didn't have healing Pins on him, so the old man was now baiting the younger into having to grovel over how the man supplied a solution to the Harrier's 'misfortunate' situation. However, the Harrier knew the sadist hadn't even regarded the fact that the Harrier wasn't going to do as the sadist expected him to.

To put it simply, the Harrier had this conundrum: If he used his Points to heal something as fribble as his nose and hands, he would lose a portion of time before his expiration date for nothing. From what the Harrier knew, your Points could be used to extend your Survival Capacity- as that appeared to be the coined term- or it could be sprinkled onto yourself to undo any oopses that may have befallen to you. It all the more promised that you need to be careful with yourself in the Underground, because if you weren't, your magical cure to aches and pains would exhaust the time you had left to exist. And, for the Harrier's sake... if he valued his existence, he wasn't stupid enough to toss his existence into the wind over mild nuisances.

Therefore, the most sensible thing to do would be to find a Reaper with a Cure Drink or alternative Psyche that could poof away the ailments he had on him. Yet... that now meant the Harrier had to play the stale, boring game of silence with the ex-army man until it clicked the sadist shouldn't be 'affable' with the Harrier. But, to be frank, the sadist had to have _some_ kind of senile shit he had to be doing on his plate today... right?

Backing away, the Harrier shook his head stubbornly.

Sadist Saiyama merely huffed, "Fine. Be that way." As the old man crossed his arms, he seemed to be sizing the Harrier up as the older Harrier's deep, gritty voice rumbled, "Thought I'd check in with you."

**'**_**Damn you**_**,'** thought the Harrier in annoyance, gritting his teeth as his face and hands kind of started to feel numb. He lowered his hands, not wanting to appear pathetic or make the sadist's Day from knowing the Harrier hated this. **'I'd pay **_**anyone**_** to Erase you, old man… I have all the Yen Pins literally on my back, and I won't feel bad if I empty the knapsack on the road _right now_ just to never see you again...'**

Pursing his lips, the Harrier begrudgingly held his ground and offered nothing to the 'conversation'. If he even made a peep, the game would be thrown and the sadist would have his satisfaction.

In response, the sadist didn't even seem phased by the fact the Harrier wasn't going to talk to him. He merely blinked as his flap kept moving. "Well, if I had to be honest, I couldn't get my mind off what you told me the other Day."

**'...So it's been at least a Day since you screwed with me.'** The Harrier couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at that.** 'How sweet of you to remind me...'**

"But, I was just wondering if you wanted to... let's just say... get some grub?" mumbled the sadist as one of his boots tapped the ground for a moment, his folded arms becoming more loosely held as his gaze appeared calmer. "By that I mean food. Just thought I'd ask since you looked lonely back there, and-"

"Whai can't chu leeave me _alown_?" he hissed back waspishly, having decided that he didn't want the old man to continue that line of thinking. He didn't regret it, seeing as the moment the word 'lonely' came out into the open, the Harrier's truculence over how the sadist was messing with him couldn't be restrained any longer. Sniffing sharply, and grimacing at the vibrating prickles he felt going through his nostrils, he added coldly, "We'rwe noutt even _friewns_…"

After giving a harumph, the sadist narrowed his eyes. "I seriously can't understand what you're saying."

Inhaling raggedly before huffing out in frustration, the Harrier told himself he wouldn't lower himself to such a level usually, but he wasn't going to let the sadist believe all was fine with him rampaging through the Harrier's existence. Or, if he were to be precise, believe nothing was bad about how he was fucking it over for the Harrier.

However, if the Harrier were to do it in an understandable manner…

Spinning away from the sadist, the Harrier stretched his arms over his head. He did so contently, pretending he wasn't groaning out in pain as well, to rotate and rest his hands behind his head before extending out his middle fingers. Upon receiving an annoyed noise from the sadist, the Harrier couldn't decide on smirking or frowning as he lowered his arms to stop doing the gesture.

"_Oh_, if you would just-" The old man cut himself off, suddenly lumbering closer to the Harrier who cringed before trying to duck as the old man was about to thump a hand against the Harrier's face. Upon thrusting himself to the side, openly glaring at the frustrated old man, the Harrier crouched, bouncing slightly to ready himself in the case that the old man was going to do another attempt. And sure enough, the sadist's shoulders went stiff before he did so. "_Stand_..._ still-_"

"_No_!" spat the Harrier instantly when the sadist's hand glowed with a brilliant brown aura. "Fucing stoph fet!"

As he moved, he was aware of how the sadist moved slower than the Harrier, which was great to know for him. The Harrier tried diving and jumping away whenever the sadist got close, yet as the Harrier laughed to himself at how despicable the sadist was being, he yelped at a slap of something sharply coiling around his leg before he lost his balance. Upon roughly landing, feeling all the scrapes he just received in his daze, the Harrier grimaced as he tried crawling into a better position to get up. Unfortunately, stomps quickly came before the old man's hand pressed him into the cement, causing the Harrier growled in frustration.

"You know," said the older Harrier as he gripped the younger Harrier's shoulder; a painful squeeze on the Harrier's legs made him groan out involuntarily when his limbs were forced together. "I stand corrected." The old man pulled the Harrier onto his back and knapsack, whilst the Harrier felt an uncomfortable sensation of something coiling further around his legs as he painfully rested on it, as the old man's firm gaze burned down on him. Soon the larger man released the Harrier's shoulder to draw his hand towards the Harrier's face. "Your nose isn't the nastiest thing I've seen from you…" growled the older man as his hand glowed earthy-brown again.

The younger Harrier simply spitted and tried to twist his head away, that is, he was doing that until he froze at a balmy sensation settling around his nose. The earlier fuzzy, burning pang could almost be forgotten by him as slight lightheadedness came to the Harrier and slowly unclenched his gritted teeth. He soon pressed his lips together instead while glowered past the hand.

From what he could see, the sadist's expression held no anger, no malice… It was simply stoic, through and through. "I'm not here to be an enemy."

"Thaf's furn...nee" started the Harrier in a slur before he narrowed his eyes more, ignoring the warmth on his face for the most part. "Becauzz deh waay Ie see fet, yew knauked daowen aah Reaapur whoo never asked for you to heal him."

Sadist Saiyama withdrew his hand, after the Harrier had spoken properly, to wave it over the Harrier's hands to cease the agony in them. His expression hardened into a scrunched ugliness as he rose up. "On the other hand, you're a spoiled brat."

"Then use your Points to reverse that," scoffed the Harrier as he sat up, only to almost roll over sideways had he not hastily slapped his hands down on the cement on his left side.

Harshly breathing as he glared at the ground, he slowly turned his head to his legs and huffed out when he saw that his legs were snared by a coil of ebony. As he followed the trail of the leather cord, he soon found it led back to a handle in the sadist's dirty hand.

**'Ahah… so that's what you use.' **Sharply shifting his gaze to the old man's face, feeling his body and neck protest at the strain he simply ignored, he felt his lips pinch together more. **'Wonder what took you so long to bring it out...'**

The thought crossed his mind that whips weren't usually that long, so it made no sense that the sadist could have bound the Harrier from such a far distance. In retrospect, he's never actually seen a whip up close before, but something told him the strength that was needed for the cord to catch his body fluently and the strength needed to crack the whip would have been lost the further away the cord was from the whip handle itself... However, he couldn't help but think a Psych must have been in the works, considering how the length had shortened drastically since the sadist came closer.

Deciding to put his ponder aside for later, the Harrier simply gave a sigh then focused on the sadist again instead of the still fluctuating length of the cord.

"I don't know what your deal is..." he said in a low voice as he bent over his stomach and removed one hand from the ground, feeling the edges of his teeth slide against each other as he placed it on one of the coils. "I can't crunch all the times you've deliberately shoved yourself into my existence for the last two Weeks… but of all the times you do nothing but act as a damn pain in the fucking neck…" Pulling at the leather in his grip, not removing his gaze from the man, he growled coldly, "I want to know why you don't understand."

"Hmph." As the Harrier felt the leather shift, he pushed against the road with his legs and other hand while the man towering over him frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, boy."

"Oh, believe me," returned the Harrier snippily as he finally freed his lower limbs, yet that wasn't enough to cool down the anger bunched in the pit of his heart as it simmered strong and unyielding. "If I had it my way," he continued bitterly, bending his knees and twisting his feet as he swung his upper-body to his right, planting his hands down and pushed hard to throw himself up. The Harrier stumbled slightly on his feet before he remained standing in front of the sadist, becoming rigid as he leered up darkly. "We would have never saw each other after the posh bastard took my fucking wings."

"I thought you said you didn't care about losing them," grunted the sadist as he adopted a wary look.

"I'm afraid you're ill-informed then." The Harrier paused before he huffed, "I said I'll never get them back."

The shaggy haired man sighed gruffly, his eyes glinting dangerously as he barked, "What's your point?"

"My point is-" The Harrier slowly backed away, each step a shallow half-circle strategically taken until he stood a few feet away. He frowned back at the larger man from the safer distance. "My existence doesn't need the likes of you hanging over my shoulder as a deadweight any longer."

He felt his fingers curl in the way a spider would jaggedly bend their spindly limbs, feeling nothing but a squirming aggravation twitch incessantly within him; his blood was boiling. "Because of you," he said shallowly while tipping his head slightly. His eyes lolled almost to the ground, yet the top of his gaze still held the tattered-sleeved ex-army man in his vision. "Almost every opportunity I've had to proceed with my goals has been awashed with hassle, grief, torment…" He clenched his teeth suddenly and spat out, "Because you don't understand the lines between us hold no bearing- no _gravity_ for us to be associated with each other!"

The old man's grip on his whip tightened. His gaze was unreadable, yet his curled back lips in his ugly frown told the Harrier enough.

"Are you happy?" asked the Harrier airily cool, realigning his head to be at its normal level as his heart started to throb. "Making my existence miserable? Taking time out of my Day to use me for your antics? Screwing with me because you want to see how far you can go before I crack!?" He lowered his head, narrowing his eyes as he smiled icily. "In order to prove that you can?"

"The last thing I would do is harm without having a reason," growled the sadist gruffly. "It's the method to my madness."

"Then you admit it!" The Harrier frowned hard immediately before he spat harshly, "Everything was set up!" He abruptly stepped forward with a stomp. "_Wasn't it_!?" His eyes burned as he clenched his hands and shouted more, "Giving me trouble while slowly using your hand to bring me down to madness- trying to delude me into thinking I could get around you at every corner, yet at every moment you imposed yourself on every fucking situation I found myself in! You just wanted to be in the front row to see how much I will bend before I snap- and break- for your _sick_ entertainment!"

"Then how is everything turning out for you?"

Almost as if those were the vital words needed to puncture a hole in a dam, the Harrier sucked in breath sharply as heat burned behind his eyes and hiccuped. That must have caught the sadist off-guard because the man went still as the Harrier stiffly shook where he stood.

It was pathetic… it was pathetic that the Harrier couldn't control how much those words lashed right where it needed to, to remind him what had previously been absent on his mind when the sadist had appeared today. The Harrier gritted his teeth, harshly yet unsteadily breathing as he felt like his arms and torso were being squeezed. He couldn't help how the words he read from the Composer's response were now floating in and out of his ears, the prominent word being 'disappointed'. The Harrier tried so hard to not cover his ears and crumple right now in front of the sadist, even when the voice kept taunting him... The voice wouldn't stop-

He clenched his eyes shut. "Th-That's a loaded question…" His lips loosely hung parted and quivered as he frowned. "Th-Thinking you can rub the salt further in… t-twist the knife harder and make it all fester…" Shaking his head, he breathed out weakly, "Why not tell me what you think is turning out for me… Why not join in and rejoice…" He gritted his teeth, cupping his hand over his chest and squeezed the fabric within his grasp promptly as he hissed out, "Because why wouldn't you be _glad_ about the outcome?"

As the Harrier breathed unevenly, his throat feeling dry and his head spinning, Sadist Saiyama started to approach. "What happened?" the old man asked with uncharacteristic solemness; forbearing. "I won't ask if you're okay... because you-"

"_Shut up_." The Harrier hung his head and inhaled quickly with a sniff, feeling his eyes water as the sides of his eyes glistened. "Don't act dumb and pretend you have a say that you care about this… You should be celebrating, yet-"

"Look at me," said the sadist as he grew closer. "What's wrong?"

"That _won't_ work again, _old man_," he grounded out coldly. The Harrier was too aware of how his chest ached and a heaviness began to collect on it as he hissed out, "I know what you did to me-" He stepped back; his footing was wobbly as he shook his head. "I know you were trying to tweak me for some damn means that I don't understand, yet I know you just wanted to have a chance to finally have your turn in _screwing_ with me."

"That's not-"

"I've _had it_ with you thinking you can do whatever you want to me!" he spat out as he tightened his grip over his heart area, stomping his next step down before his body released a shudder. "You were manipulating me because you could! You knew you did because you kept praising me for every goddamn command I couldn't control myself from doing because of some damn suggestibility I was under-" He abruptly paused to inhale in too little of air before he spat out again, "Don't deny this! Admit it! You wanted to destroy what little I had left of myself you fucking, sick, lying _bastard_!" He narrowed his eyes as he raggedly breathed, "That's what you've wanted _all_, _this_, _time_...!"

The sadist's footsteps ceased; a sigh followed. "...Even if I tell you why I did it, that won't stop you from hating me. But, whatever is bothering you…" Another sigh came, "It's easy to see it's eating you up."

"What does it matter about me…?" The Harrier's lips drew together to frown shakily. "Nothing matters about me because everything that I say, think, or do isn't important. It isn't important to _anyone_. You might even say... " He felt warm liquid roll over his face, shooting downward to wobble on his slanted chin as he breathed out wetly, "My only use would be something that should be Erased... recycled into something that truly does matter."

When he received silence, he hollowly went on, "I mean, I don't matter, so what does it matter if I remain?" He closed his eyes and his breath hitched during his sniffle, tearfully mumbling, "It's simple: There's nothing left for me to do… so there's nothing that I can do… I might make for a better Noise than an asshole who wastes resources because what do I fucking do if I can't do the one thing I thought mattered…?"

He let out a wretched laugh; his heart throbbing harder as his chest bounced from the painful rumbles. "It's like I was bred to masquerade as a precious jewel, only to be found I was crud that was just painted to be of use for something. I wasn't bred for success- I was bred to be a fucking _tumour_ that has nothing to latch onto- so what use do I have as that pathetic tumour for _anything_!?"

Stomps started again, yet the Harrier ignored them to continue laughing, not caring how far the sadist was because it didn't matter. There was nothing for him and he was nothing; might as well fucking accept-

A crack split through the air.

The Harrier let out a cry that went mute, being forcibly spun to his left and instantly slumped over his stomach as it burned rawfully. He ignored his wailing shoulder as he shakily gasped out in shock; his eyes going wide as his thoughts froze.

He blinked in bafflement when he finally lifted his head swiftly in a jerk, staring up at the sadist, who finally closed the distance between them as his whip trailed on the cement beside him.

"D-Did you just-" the Harrier managed to breathe out, only to balk upon noticing the sadist's nightmarish glower.

"Does it hurt?" asked the sadist gravely. His lips were completely flat, even though the Harrier knew they should have been in a deep frown. "Did you feel that?"

"O-Of course I did-" quickly said the Harrier, seeing stars momentarily before he stuttered out, "You _struck_ me!"

"Good." The Harrier immediately frowned at that, yet didn't stop hugging his torso before noticing the sadist's arm reared with the whip. Feeling his eyes bulge a fraction, the Harrier threw himself backwards just in time and the sadist cracked the whip on the pavement instead. "Why did you dodge?" the sadist asked suddenly in an odd tone when pulling back the cord of the whip.

"Why did I-" The Harrier's expression screwed up, frowning bemusedly yet warily as the sadist smiled for some reason while raising the whip again. Jerking up, the Harrier grimaced as the previous pain spilled through his torso again before he felt himself leaning backwards as he stepped back with alarm. He cried out, "You were going to hit me again!"

"It's not like it matters if I do," replied the sadist with a shrug. "You don't care."

The Harrier shook his head in dismay, backing away more as his eyes remained fixated on the whip.

"You made that clear, so stand still," grunted the sadist gruffly as he reared his whip back, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Come on... I don't have all Day."

The younger Reaper immediately whipped his hands up and held his palms towards the sadist. "What do you think you're _doing_!?" the Harrier demanded as he stopped to send a scowl. "Stop it!"

"For someone who doesn't care, you're squirming around a lot." The sadist grinned wolfishly, releasing a rumbly guffaw, "Don't tell me you're _scared_."

"I-I'm-" The Harrier clenched his teeth before thrusting away from another lash from the whip, unsteadily rocking on his toes as he narrowed his eyes and spat, "If you try that again one, more-" He jerked into a stumble as the leather flew at him again, almost jogging as he backed away warily while clenching his hands to fists. "Why are you doing this!?" he snapped before releasing an aggravated snarl, "_Stop_ screwing around with me...!"

"I'm not going to stop," the sadist told him, causing the Harrier to take another step only to find that he found contact with a wall. With a quick look to the half-built skyscraper nearby Circle Link's entrance then to the sadist, the Harrier bristled while the sadist taunted, "What are _you_ going to do about it…?"

"I don't know what you're doing…" The Harrier watched the whip carefully as he soon went on lowly, "But if you-" He flinched, yet before he could leap away, his movement was cut short as his arm was snagged by the whip. The Harrier felt himself jerk and start to keel when he grasped the cord and righted himself, but he was involuntarily yanked towards the sadist almost immediately. He began to try and pull himself away, only to be practically clawing at the leather that refused to uncoil from his arm.

**'Is it **_**possessed**_** or something!?' **he thought in alarm. **'Why won't it budge!?'**

"If you think I'm going to let you go, because you think bullshitting yourself with excuses and yammers will work..." The sadist gave a hard tug, making the Harrier cry out as he lost his balance and landed roughly with a groan from feeling the added sting of his earlier injury. Upon twisting his head to send an exasperated leer to the man from where he was painfully sprawled, the burly man shook his head before he soon growled out, "Think again, Scamp."

Suddenly, the older Harrier grasped the handle of the whip with his other hand, testing the tautness of the leather. In the meantime, the Harrier tried pulling at the leather as much as he could to hopefully loosen it as soon as possible, but then the sadist shifted his arms before rotating his whole body around abruptly. On cue, to his dismay, the Harrier's body followed.

Being gyrated around, with his sight failing to keep up with it, made the Harrier's head spin to point he felt sick as he desperately tried harder to free himself. His stomach even started to churn as his vision soon whirled when he noticed he was freefalling now, so the sadist must have flung him out of range at some point. But that was last thing he needed to focus on right now; the Harrier had to act fast to figure out which was up and which was down before he ended up as roadkill.

Squinting, he concentrated as hard as he could before an idea came to mind. Instead of inducing a worse dizzy spell, he reached out with his energy and plunged it through his body, knowing he had no time to spare to make a recovery move so he hoped it was ready for use.

With a silent prayer that he wasn't too late, he drew his hand to his chest and touched Cripplecheck through his hoodie fabric.

His surroundings stopped, leaving him to think clearer and rotated himself correctly so he could land painfully on his hands and knees. Merely grimacing, he took note that he was several feet from the sadist, who was suspended in his previously stopping twirl with his face intense, while the Support Reapers were congregated together and pointing in the Harrier and sadist's direction. Not to mention, Kanji started to form and glitch in the air around those vultures, yet the Harrier saw no reason to view them right now in the muted-coloured environment.

Pushing himself up to stand, he frowned for a moment before simply tapping his trusty Pin again.

Feeling himself jerk, as the uncomfortable feeling of waterloggedness from the wind tousling him about earlier struck him hard, he placed a hand over his stomach while he gagged and made a slight noise from that. **'_Ugh_… can't help it can't erase the past sensations.'** Upon surveying his surroundings, noticing how the sadist and Support Reapers were blatantly staring at him in bafflement now, he simply sipped on the air and sighed mentally. **'...Not to mention the reactions.'**

Shooting a glance in the sadist's direction, the Harrier simply shrugged nonchalantly. "Cute."

The sadist's expression receded into thoughtfulness, frowning as he grunted, "That settles it then."

"Hmm?" The Harrier blinked, frowning in confusion as he felt himself lose his composure. "What are you talking about?"

"For someone who was just glorifying Erasure five minutes ago," growled the sadist with a disgruntled grunt, slapping his whip handle to his muddied-belt. "Begging for it…" He shook his head briefly before he crossed his arms grumpily. "You did the last thing you should have if you meant it."

The Harrier bristled. "What's _that_ supposed to _mean_!?"

"Feh." The sadist started to walk closer, his expression hardening as his eyes didn't leave the Harrier. "What do you think it means? You were lying." He pointed at the Harrier with a sausage finger as his eyes darkened when stopping. "Whatever you're angsting about is garbage- literal garbage to claim you wanted to be Erased."

"You don't know what-"

"Shut your _pie-hole_!" snapped the sadist, causing the Harrier to flinch.

Before the Harrier seized the chance to defend himself again, the sadist barked out angrily, "I know what a dead man looks like even before he's blasted to chunks before my fucking eyes- the kind that falls on their underbellies and _dies_!" He huffed gruffly before he growled on, "You didn't even let me do the deed of terminating you… so was this all a joke!? That you think you can casually joke about Erasure being the best thing since sliced bread when you can't even stand getting a flesh wound!?"

Balling up his fists, the Harrier coldly regarded the man before turning his head away. "You don't know me."

"It's impossible to know anyone here, boy," sniffed the older Harrier with deride. "Heck, I don't even want to know what your deal is. But it's not like I fucking have a choice- because you won't stop going on about murder like it's a sport!"

The Harrier's gaze hardened. "...So you've been intentionally getting in my way."

"It's hard to not notice dead bodies popping up like they were from rabbits going at it," returned the sadist coldly, snorting noisily before he spat, "What I'm trying to say is that no matter what you say now, I know for sure you're kidding yourself when you say you want to be Erased. If you had wanted Erasure, _why_ didn't you stand still for me?"

The Harrier scoffed as he narrowed his eyes, "I don't know."

"You _do_ know, or you _don't_ know... it's like you can't make up your mind." Sadist Saiyama lumbered closer, every stomp his boots made grinded on the Harrier's nerves as he whipped his head to leer at the approaching behemoth. Murky-green eyes regarded him as the sadist sneered, "Or who knows? Maybe fight-or-flight _does_ have it's kicks…" He patted the side of his head with a cold smile. "But don't tell me you're thick-skulled... you have to have _some_ intelligence left inside you."

Gritting his teeth, the younger Reaper simply drew his head forward to fully face the old man and hissed, "If you're so worried about how I didn't get Erased, why don't you just crush my fucking neck like the _smart cookie_ you are should?"

"That can be arranged, provided that you don't struggle." The sadist's smile deepened, grimly making it turn ugly as he thumped a hand into his left open fist. The audible smack made the Harrier tense. "Unless…" slurred the sadist with his lips curling into a smiling sneer. "You want to fess up for what's actually eating you."

"You wouldn't understand," retorted the Harrier as he lowered his gaze, feeling his bottom lip quiver as he grounded out in frustration, "No one _ever_ understands…" He balled his hands into fists again. "Not you- not the posh bastard- _no one_!"

He shook his head before he bitterly snarled, "In this Plane we reside in, we are groomed for becoming the vultures that tried to prey on us once. The food chain is supposed to be the same for everyone, but while the facts are given out, those who don't conform to them are penalized even though we want to serve the place we were grateful to end up in. This is supposed to be a place that's a refuge to the Dead-" He whipped his head up. "But it's just a fucking shithole!"

As the sadist's expression failed to change, the Harrier's eyes burned as he gasped out, "Forgive me for growing a conscience!" He narrowed his eyes and harshly went on as he threw up his arms angrily, "Forgive me for wanting to do something for the greater good! Even though everything has gone to shit, at least _I_ know I tried to push for change that our dear city needed!"

"Tried?" Suddenly, the sadist's face lost its intensity and appeared confused.

"You fucking don't _get it_!" spat the Harrier as he backed away, breathing unsteadily as he felt warmth pool behind his gaze again. "Why push for change when it's only to be frowned upon by the one that needs to care about it!? Why push for change when no one takes you seriously!? _Why_ push for change when you're the _scum_ of the _Underground_!?"

Sadist Saiyama frowned, adopting a wary look as he growled, "You see?" The Harrier threw a dirty look as the sadist huffed, "If you truly have given up, why are you so vehement about whatever you're going on about?"

"Who asked you!?" snapped the Harrier as he let out a growl in his throat. "You're not the fucking fool who has nothing to exist for!"

"Then what's the problem?" The sadist stopped and crossed his arms again, raising an eyebrow expectantly. "The longer you bottle it up, it'll eat you up like those Yellow Noise nearly did."

"They could have me with a side of my _dead body_ for all they want!" The Harrier clenched his eyes closed, gritting his teeth as he shouted rawfully, "It's not like I'm important- not like I matter- not like _anyone_ who would care for because I've long since accepted that I'm WORTHLESS!"

"Do you attribute yourself on whether or not you can or cannot do things?" sternly asked the sadist as he narrowed his eyes. The Harrier pressed his hands against his hood to cover his ears as the old man stepped closer as he barked, "Are you even hearing yourself!?" His hands pushed harder against his ears. "You're rambling and not making sense anymore! Everything you're telling me right now clings to nothing! You're spiraling into despair through useless obsession over something you can't even explain properly!"

"_Fuck you_!" spat the Harrier bitterly as he eased open his eyes slightly, backing up as pressure began to build in his chest. He felt as if it was trying to punch at and burst out of his chest at the same time as he bit out, "Y-You just don't… understand!"

The Harrier felt like he was quivering, his footing becoming unsteady as he half-regarded the sadist and half-regarded the fact his torso hurt. His body halted itself as agony rippled away from his chest, making him gasp out and tremble on the spot as he bent over his stomach while his vision was splashed with black, white and rainbow fuzziness. His teeth clattered as he felt himself lock up, closing his eyes even more as he tried to breathe only to shallowly inhale.

"...What's wrong!?" asked the sadist, his voice melding with the static and ringing swallowing the Harrier's hearing. "_Hey_\- are you _listening_ to me!?"

"S-Stay away from me-" the Harrier managed to gasp out in a small voice. "D-Don't come closer-"

His heart thickly pulsed in his ears, making him press his hands against them more as his face contorted. He couldn't tell what was going on around him as his vision flashed behind his eyelids for no reason and shook as it distorted with variously changing colours. Something was coming up his throat and he felt his gag reflect kick in, soon feeling lightheaded as whatever it was stubbornly refused to stop crawling up his esophagus…

A nasty flavour came into his mouth and he wasn't able to discern what he was tasting before he felt it leak out from his parted lips. The Harrier couldn't figure out if he was revolted by that or if it reminded him enough of blood being choked out of a person… his mind reeling as he coughed pathetically and felt more of it come out...

All in an instant, the moment pressure settled near his shoulder, he involuntarily felt himself whip his head up as he slapped it away.

Stumbling backwards, the Harrier stared wide-eyed at the sadist who blinked out his vision momentarily. He clenched his eyes tightly shut. "Stay _away_ from me!"

Even as he inhaled and exhaled deeply in a crude hybrid of hyperventilation, the side of his vision caught the glimpse of a bright scarlet swirl, that turned into a wisp upon leaving his previously enveloped fingers. Suddenly, his vision zoomed in and out before a headache came over him, grimacing as he felt his body relax slightly. He realized he could sense the energy lingering, as if it was still ready on the tips of his fingers…

Feeling his mouth drop, he quickly turned his head to the sadist who still hovered close by. Flinching, he abruptly stepped back and glowered at the man even as the pain still resonated in his chest.

"Go away…" he warned the old man lowly, trying to move his stiff body to somewhat adopt a crouch. Inhaling with a wince, he found it took a lot more effort to speak when he hissed out, "I-If you don't leave my sight… in the _next_ minute…" He clenched his jaw tightly. "I will _make_ you…"

"You're in no state to make those kind of demands," gruffly grunted Sadist Saiyama with a deep, ugly frown. He whisked his hand lacklustrely as he hmphed, "I don't even know _what_ I saw, but from what I _can_ see- your body's strained… almost ready to come apart if I blow air on it..."

"I didn't ask for your _opinion_!" the Harrier retorted back as he felt his body begin to lock up again, curling his hands into fists as he shook his head roughly. "My body is perfectly fine as it is!"

"Don't be _stupid_!" snapped the sadist harshly as he began advancing forward, his hard glare burning down on the Harrier and the Harrier met it unflinchingly with his own. The old man stiffly shook his hands twice towards the Harrier with fraught anger. "I saw _particles_ dripping from your mouth- _your_ particles!"

"The only thing I care about is never seeing you again." The Harrier stepped back, yet struggled to place one foot down upon doing so. He gritted his teeth and growled before he shouted loudly, "I don't _need_ you looming over me! I don't _need_ you shackling me to the River again! I just want you to _get out of my sight_!"

"You _need_ help!" insisted the sadist stubbornly.

"_No_... _I_…" His expression contorted before he darted forward. "DON'T!"

Before he realized it, he reared an arm back while throwing himself into the air, swinging it forward as the bright scarlet returned to warp around his fist. Just feeling the energy flowing from his hand… traveling through his veins to surface around other in-motion parts of his body while he surged towards at the sadist… made him feel akin to being drunk- Not drunk, but drunk from the power itself as a familiar emotion swelled in his aching chest for the first time in Weeks.

The sadist didn't have time to react before the Harrier's clout contacted his right collarbone region, his expression twisting into shock before his head hung heavily from the recoil. Splashes of scarlet erupted under the Harrier's feet when they each touched onto the road as he pivoted sharply, drawing a scarlet-enveloped leg back then the left one to the side before he swung his right shin at the old man's side in a roundabout kick. As soon as he finished, he slammed his foot back down to thrust himself out of range from the sadist.

Hopping backwards with each step he took immediately after, steeling his gaze as he shifted his feet to bounce on the spot to maintain momentum, he watched warily as the sadist slowly turned his head to grimly regard him.

"When you're out of options…" started the sadist aloofly, his eyes dark and face taut, he simply stood there without checking on his injuries as the Harrier had expected him to. Clearly the sadist felt those attacks… so perhaps the sadist trained himself to ignore them with how he didn't give any indication he had to the younger Reaper. "Feh, you just throw reason out the window and do what any other Reaper would have done ages ago."

The Harrier felt an aggravated itch inside him, not wanting the sadist to downsize his efforts to scare him off so he yelled as he threw himself forward again. Usually he would be refuting the old man's spewed logic with his own, but right now, he didn't care. He _couldn't_ care with how much anger he felt towards the old fool.

He felt as if he was almost gliding across the pavement as he reared a new punch, already mapping out a new course to move in the moment he noticed the sadist took on a defensive stance. Just before he met the sadist head-on, the younger kicked hard to diagonally spring away from the man, pushing energy into Alla Breve to accelerate his motion to avoid the swipe meant for him. He didn't dare lose focus as when he felt his first foot land, he slammed the other down to spring at the sadist again. In the short amount of time he shot forward, he mentally prepared himself before bringing his right foot down to cut off his momentum to spin and hop up almost past the sadist's head to kick his other leg into the sadist's face.

His landing was clumsy from how his body spun to face the opposite direction, barely able to plan his next move before the sadist's large hand clamped onto his right shoulder then the Harrier's legs were knocked out from under him. The Harrier cried out before groaning in pain as the sadist seemingly brought his weight down to shove the Harrier to the ground, feeling the larger man hover and rest almost on the Harrier's knapsack with his upper-torso while clamping onto the next shoulder with his free hand.

"You're pretty fast." The sadist's voice rumbled above the Harrier's ears, sounding almost as if the old man was impressed which irked the Harrier. His mind instantly clutched onto the notion that it must have been his imagination from how dazed he was from being pinned to the ground like this, to save himself the grief of thinking too deeply into the meaning. After all, there was no time for focusing on that when he had to get an escape plan up and running. "But you didn't think fast enough."

The Harrier tried dragging his feet, hopefully get some use out of them, as he huffed, "You're one to talk."

"Feh, I'm not the one who made the mistake of idling too long."

Gritting his teeth, the Harrier closed his eyes. "Like you are?"

Before the sadist had a chance to respond, the Harrier sent energy in the meantime and willed for it to take form. As soon as he felt the Psyche established itself successfully, he opened his eyes and smirked coolly towards the preoccupied sadist. "I mean, come on- You're wasting your time, old man."

"Don't act cheek when you're-" The sadist paused before raising his head slightly. "Wait a minute…"

"_Yeah_… that's where you're wrong. Sorry to disappoint you, but..." chuckled the Harrier darkly as he forced his palm forward. His eyes grew sharp as he whisked his hand's fingers towards himself, promptly lashing his hand sharply forward whilst snapping his fingers at the sadist. "You're right where I want you."

Sadist Saiyama immediately flinched, his head turning too late as a torrent of fireflies surged his way from behind him. "What-!?" The moment the fireflies arrived as the sadist swung his body around and away from the pinned younger Reaper to spot the Harrier, past the sizzling, glowing insects that started to smoke and swarm the old man, fire erupted abruptly to create an explosion around him. "_Gah-_"

As a black cloud of smoke was forming, the Harrier simply felt the need to wait for it to disperse instead of recklessly charging in again to relish his small triumph. And when the sadist hauled himself up to sluggishly regard the Harrier from afar, the Harrier called over to the sadist smugly, "_Aw_… did that _hurt_…?"

He smiled coolly while internally laughing at the sadist's incredulous face, that glanced down at the spotless pavement below him then to the Harrier again in absolute shock.

"I don't usually like using Psyches unless I'm in need of them," continued the Harrier smoothly as he tilted his head cheekily. "Which, to be frank, was horribly unnecessary for an oldster who can hardly keep up with us youngsters."

"Hmph." The sadist shook his body a bit, probably to shake off invisible Psyche residue. As he pawed at a burn mark on his shoulder, he grunted as it disappeared, "You had me fooled, I'll give you that."

The Harrier bristled, taking a careful step forward as he spat, "I wasn't asking for your validation!" He bounced on his toes slightly, to hopefully prep Virtuoso again when he needed it next, as he growled, "I'm _not_ trying to impress you for crying out loud- I just want you to _go away_! How many times do I have to say this!?"

"You made that clear already," grumbled the sadist as he narrowed his eyes. "But you're starting to piss me off with all your kicks and punches and-"

"I _said_, I didn't want to hear your _opinion_!" snapped the Harrier before pushing himself forward again.

This time, instead of acting like a human training dummy, the sadist reached for his whip straightaway. "This again?" The older Harrier uncoiled his whip with a single flick of his wrist, grabbing one part of the cord with his other hand to tug it taut. "If you're that raring to go for a fight," he growled in a murmur**,** as the Harrier kicked off the ground and reared for a punch, his expression darkening as he grunted, "Then let's fight."

Before the Harrier landed his attack, the sadist dropped his cord to swing his body enough to evade the punch with a pivoted side-step. Within the next trice, he caught the back of the Harrier's knapsack and halted the Harrier's momentum to chuck the younger Reaper back in the direction he came from.

The Harrier's watched the distance between him and the sadist grow quickly in brief alarm as he sailed backwards to tumble across the road in the next moment. He wasted no time after he stopped rolling to push himself up to leap out of the way of the sadist's whip, sending a glower the sadist's way as he shot his palm forward again to blast another wave of literal fireflies at the old man and continued in the direction he was travelling in.

As he circled the sadist, who tried to ward off the Harrier's Ignis Swarm unsuccessfully, the Harrier quickly drew in to kick the sadist's spine to see if he could get an extra hit in. And when he had, he quickly ran off to safety when the sadist turned to lash his whip to counter too late. The moment the whip struck the ground again, the Harrier called over his shoulder with contempt laughter, "What kind of vulture can't get a basic hit in!?"

"The kind that sees no reason but to let their opponents in to waste their energy," growled the sadist with a huff as he watched the Harrier dart around him easily.

"How does revealing your hand help you?" shrewdly asked the Harrier then scoffed, "You're not even trying!"

"I can take as many hits as you need to use on me any Day." The sadist drew his whip closer to him, his eyes hardening as the Harrier glanced around while looking for a good vantage point to attack again from. "Not my fault you don't like how I play by the rules."

"Quit stalling then!" The Harrier veered from his path, knowing he could get a hit in and get out of there without a sweat if the ex-army man refused to react properly in a battle. "Instead of being an ugly pylon- actually fight me, _dammit_!"

"Fine. Your funeral." With that, Sadist Saiyama dropped low to the road and placed his free hand on it flat.

Scowling in annoyance as he felt himself slow down, the Harrier frowned in bewilderment as he observed the sadist from where he had come to a stop. **'Ugh… how the hell does that translate to hurting me?'**

The sadist had closed his eyes for some reason, his expression neutral as he silently kept his hand there and the Harrier couldn't help but feel wary all of a sudden. He stepped back, trying to judge what the man was trying to accomplish with doing what could be considered a weird form of meditation in the Harrier's mind. But as soon as the man's dull-coloured gaze opened, directly staring at the Harrier, the young Reaper twitched before scoffing and sprinted for the sadist. **'If he's not going to do **_**anything**_**, I may as well fucking help myself with-'**

Just before the Harrier got in front of the sadist, the old man threw his arm with his whip's handle high above his head. He cracked the whip down hard into the spot the Harrier almost walked into the path of-

The Harrier had no time to react before he was sent hurtling away by a rock jutting into his gut.

When he roughly landed on his backpack meters away, even though it felt more like he landed on his spine, he felt dizzy as his head lolled to his left. The Harrier dazedly heard the sadist sigh, "That was stupid… Why didn't you stay where you were?"

"I know what makes people tick, but I haven't figured out how to read their minds yet," grumbled the Harrier irritably as he drew himself up to sit. He put a hand on the section of his skull that throbbed, scowling at the sadist. "But that's beside the point."

The sadist simply watched as the Harrier got up, not moving as the Harrier placed a hand over his stomach before deeming he was okay then adopted a crouch. He scrutinized the sadist as he ran through his earlier observations, the prominent thought being that the sadist hadn't moved out of the invisible circle on the road he claimed thus far. With how much the Harrier had to dash in to get some real hits in, his usual strategy was thrown out the window. The Harrier depended on being in motion to outwit his opponents… but if he had to keep rushing in for the offensive, the sadist may make it impossible for the Harrier to reach him in the future if his gut reminded him enough of that. Even when he had Ignis Swarm to bombard his opponents, he couldn't rely on it as much as he did for Virtuoso. Having his natural fighting abilities being augmented gave him freedom to act however he pleased, provided that he could get within close combat to utilize it properly…

Eyeing the rock structure that was a horn in the ground, he couldn't help but feel like he wouldn't have to worry about that sort of obstacle. With what he had done so far, the Harrier surmised he hardly dealt real damage to the behemoth… And if he were to attack without his momentum being interrupted, he would have to bring in the rest of his artillery.

"Scared?" The Harrier's thoughts were broken; he refocused on the sadist who continued gruffly, "Look, we don't need to keep fighting. How about we leave things at a draw, and-"

Narrowing his eyes, he immediately tapped Cripplecheck. **'Time to do some homework before we get the ball going again.'**

However, the Harrier held his stance, quietly breathing as he soon frowned. **'I used it too early.'** He tapped the Pin again, receiving the same result. **'Ah… well then.' **He grimaced before shaking his head. **'I guess I'll have to go about the rest of this blind…"**

Upon glancing back at the sadist, who arched an eyebrow as he pursed his lips at the Harrier, the younger Reaper flinched before he glared darkly at the burly man. "I'm not done with you-" He thrust himself forward to sprint at the man, narrowing his eyes to slits as he growled out, "This is far from over!"

The sadist immediately tensed before throwing his whip at the rock, the cord coiling rapidly before the structure was abruptly torn from the road to be chucked forward. The Harrier simply spitted before sending energy into Alla Breve, feeling air whirl swiftly past him as his body was thrust sideways and away from the catapulted rock. Skidding slightly as he veered to refocus his direction on the old man again, he quickly took note of how the sadist slammed his foot down before the crusty veins of pavement from the impact tore from the ground and spiked outward, beginning to slither rapidly towards the Harrier...

Before the younger Reaper could find an exit from the advancing welts of rocks, jagged pillars jutted out in front of him at several intervals until some surfaced underfoot without warning to rocket him into the air. Widening his eyes, he waved his hands loosely through the wind scuttling past his flying form as he was forced to freefall, watching helplessly as the sadist raised his head before throwing his whip at the Harrier.

**'Don't you **_**dare**_**-'** The Harrier gritted his teeth and immediately glanced to the ground before pushing energy to Shadow's Play, feeling his vision patch over and swim as if taking on an oily filter. His sight sharpened when he stood on the ground again as the thwack of the whip met his previous body. And with his new body, he straightaway charged back at the sadist.

The moment he reached a closer range, the Harrier thrust his palm forward to shoot a swirling, flashing flare of light. The sadist let out a cry of shock when it struck before he was reduced to rubbing his eyes, blinking dazedly just as the Harrier's next punch landed. When the Harrier watched the sadist's arm throw itself around aimlessly for him, the Harrier ducked and slipped under it to pivot back to deliver a rolling kick then another in the opposite direction as he spun on the spot.

"Get your eyes checked!" taunted the Harrier snidely while setting his foot down promptly, springing backwards to avoid the sadist's next blind swing. He tsked before laughing out with contempt triumph when he touched the road again, "You're not going to-"

Suddenly, the Harrier's breath was stolen as the whip coiled around his torso and arms. He immediately glared in annoyance as the sadist now turned his head, blinking a scowl directly at the Harrier. "Got you."

"Oh no…" breathed the Harrier with an eye-roll, shaking his head. "Whatever should I do…?"

"Can it!" barked the sadist before he dragged the whip sideways, then the Harrier was flipped in the air as the coil unwound before he landed uselessly with a small cry of pain. As the Harrier's vision tumbled and whirled, he vaguely felt the sadist raise his whip back. "How much longer do you need to be _satisfied_ with this!?"

The Harrier tried to get up, yet he fell sideways as his vision slanted before something hard struck his face and sent him backflipping without warning. As he gasped out raggedly when his spine wailed in agony, his vision swimming as he tried to get up again, he felt his heart churn with anger as the sadist bellowed, "There's no need to commit to fighting when you're misguided!"

"_Shut up_-" The Harrier pushed himself up before throwing a new batch of fireflies at the sadist, lunging forward precariously to evade a wave of flying rocks from hitting him. "I just want you to leave me alone!"

"That can be done, but that doesn't answer my question!" retorted the sadist harshly before cracking his whip again. This time, it forced the Harrier to race against avoiding another wave of rocks that crawled across the road this time.

"You're _lying_!" the Harrier yelled out miserably furious as he leapt up over a wall of climbing rocks that abruptly sliced into his path, fumbling his landing to stagger into running again. "Even if I stop-" He nearly halted at the sight of rock structures erupting from the cement further in his path. "You're not going to stop chasing me wherever I go!"

He kept going and forced himself hastily upwards with the aid of Alla Breve, successfully having time for one of his feet to touch the top of the first rock column he nearly slammed into. He didn't let his motion die as he pushed off from it to jump to the next one, traversing a risky circuit of rapidly surfacing rock pillars that grew higher and higher until he was forced to spring off another, only to hurdle dangerously to the ground when the sadist didn't create another landing pad for him.

As his stepping leg pointed downward, and would likely be in intense pain once it struck the ground first, he knew he wouldn't maintain momentum from crashing so he created another of himself on the shadow below him. Before he knew it, he was running on the road, safe and sound, as his previous body burst into bright scarlet particles upon taking the fall for him.

The ground was now uneven under his Lygres; scoured with crusted grooves from the sadist's relentless onslaught. It almost caused the Harrier to lose his balance more often than not as he circled around the sadist again. Unlike before, he was traversing at a closer range than he wanted to be in, as two-thirds of where he had been running earlier was inaccessible because of the still standing pillars. The moment the thought crossed his mind, the sadist stomped down and the cement past his boot abruptly rippled to life to become an army of slithering, rolling cement that flew across the road.

In response to this, the Harrier readied himself to push harder on his feet to avoid the unified attack, yet to his confusion, they wove past him. It left the Harrier frowning incredulously nearby the half-circle's middle pillar, only to start seconds later at the sickeningly horrid sound of multiple cracks going off at the same time.

Turning around instantly, ignoring the sadist completely, he froze as from the base of each of them, from the lowest to highest, fracturing lines shot up to climb the formations before the pillars split apart without warning. He couldn't help but feel he was rooted to the spot, watching in horror as each cleaved cement fell away from each other to collide into neighbouring ones, breaking and separating into various disproportionate pieces as they were falling...

The Harrier gasped mutely, feeling as if his nerves reconnected the moment the first shard impaled the ground. He leapt almost thoughtlessly away from another before the rest were smashing upon impact, showering him and the road with fragments as he tried his best keep his head clear during his escape. He ran off in the direction of the pillars decreasing in size, hopping and springing off of the fallen debris that ravaged his path to avoid being stricken down. The Harrier knew he had better chances of getting out of the danger zone if the pillars to the east were already done their toppling, as it would allow for nothing to crush him so he could veer off sooner to attack-

In the next split second, he widened his eyes when he heard the whip cord whoosh through the air, not having time to make a sprint for it as his breath stolen from him. His upper-limbs slammed against his sides again and his knapsack and Yen Pins protested, wincing with a tiny cry escaping his lips before he was being thrown back into the mayhem by Sadist Saiyama. He barely had time to react again before he was released to spin and wobble, coughing feebly from the influx of dust dwelling in the air before his body fell over a rock without warning, landing clumsily on his chest in a daze.

He grimaced as he laid sprawled on the ground, blinking almost every second, as his shrouded, watery vision was pretty much useless, and heard more breakages in the distance. His attempt to get himself back on his feet was foiled when he fell on his chest to lay on his stomach again, coughing downward and squinting as his nails scrabbled with the debris. The Harrier was aware of how much his chest hurt, but he ignored it as he blindly let his hands search for now for something solid to help him as his crutch.

In the distance, he felt how the sadist was motionless, probably unaware of the Harrier's survival of the pillar timbering. The very idea made the Harrier feel more urgency to seize the opportunity, as that could be a useful smokescreen to get himself out of the area before his whereabouts were made known again. This was a blessing and a curse for the both of them; the Harrier knew it left the sadist open for a surprise attack if the dust had spread enough to shield the Harrier's movements, and that made the revelation all the more important to put into use as the Harrier's gift in this case. ...Even if the Harrier couldn't see for now.

With his new resolve, he forgone his hands' search, ignoring how floured they were with cement residue as he pushed himself up painstakingly slow. He was unsteady for a moment before he pivoted right, starting to tread carefully forward. He controlled his breathing to take in the minimal amount he needed, fighting off the urge to cough as he dragged his feet around hidden obstacles, before he forced himself to begrudgingly stop.

**'I might end up bumping into him at this rate, even if my heightened reflexes help my depth perception...' **he thought in frustration before turning back to his left to trudge. He gritted his teeth, feeling a spike of anger in him as he curled his slightly throbbing hands.** 'That was a planned ****assault... but the sadist misjudged the timing immensely. If he had held me in place instead of pretending to let me flee the rockfall, he would have gotten me. But he hadn't... which begs the question of why.'**

Still keeping his eyes squinted as he started to smell less dust, his watered eyes rapidly tried blinking again when he finally entered the debris-free portion of the intersection. It was as if it was left alone for him, to solely gasp for cleaner air on unblemished pavement before abruptly coughing to raggedly gasp in again. His last blink only came when his vision was mostly clear.

One glance around the area gave him enough answers, and the Harrier let his eyes carefully pick apart each and every ugly injury the road had sustained. Like before, the intersection had been tortured, but the added piles of shards of cement and rocks almost made the Harrier purse his lips, noting how much it looked as if an earthquake had just happened now. He wouldn't be surprised if the Realground denizens mistook it as simply as that, as he spotted some cars phasing through the rubble while the population of people in question were cowardly milling about outside the impacted district...

But his worry about the civilians themselves was put on hold as the reality of what this meant set in.

While the sadist claimed he didn't want to fight... only to viciously spring an avalanche of cement into motion that failed to Erase the Harrier... the former held true. This was a set-up; an elaborate scheme meant for the Harrier. By logic, how could the Harrier continue fighting if he had nothing to fight on? If the Harrier didn't want to stop... the sadist was going to make him stop... by forfeiting. Limiting the Harrier's options to none but to _forfeit_... because the sadist meant to gain the upper-hand to make it impossible to keep fighting.

There was no way the Harrier was going to let that continue.

The Harrier's blood boiled as he silently flashed a look of aggravation towards the stationed ex-army man, balling up his hands more as he gritted his teeth again. "I see how it is," he scoffed darkly, wrinkling his nose as he shifted his head sideways a little. "Smothering me so you can be free to chat..." He narrowed his eyes to slits and growled, "Because you think you're done playing around..."

From what the Harrier could see, the sadist was staring into the fog of dust before the Harrier had spoken then the sadist's head jerked. He turned it to the younger Reaper and lowered the whip, letting it hover close to his side as he shuffled to fully-face the black-hooded Reaper now. "Would you look at that, you got out of there," the old man rumbled with an odd placement of contentedness in his tone, causing the Harrier to bristle. "Good job."

Tensing at those words, the Harrier was glad his grimace was hidden by his hood as an inappropriate sense of pride came to him. Immediately, he tried to suffocate the feeling to instead focus on how much those words actually made him angry as he spat bitterly, "Shut up!" As he inhaled, he was unfortunate to have a cough attack him, shoving his elbow against his face to sputter into it. He hated how the sadist was a witness to this as he soon cleared his throat, half a moment later sniffing coolly, "So you think you're done, huh."

Sadist Saiyama's murky gaze simply adopted a faint glint as one end of his lips quirked. "Having second thoughts?"

"For your information, I'm breaking a sweat without sacrificing my stamina. I _know_ how to pace myself, even if you hadn't tried to bury me alive," he sneered as he started stalking while keeping his eyes on the other man, a trice later muttering under his breath, "...or whatever alternative it is for us in that case, _ugh_." Drifting back and forth in a quarter-circle around the sadist with his stiff pacing, whilst unclenching and curling his hands, he huffed when he hissed coldly, "The point _is_\- while you're fucking fine with your half-assed performance, I'm _nowhere_ close to being finished with you..."

"Feh, you really think fighting me will do you favours then," grunted Sadist Saiyama gruffly as he readjusted his footing, the Harrier halting to crabbily regard the other as the man breathed out heftily, "I get that you're angry, and you're getting it out of your system... but that doesn't have to mean you need to push yourself past your breaking point. We can stop now before you make things worse for yourself."

"I'm not the one _doing_ that!" snapped the Harrier venomously as he bristled, breathing unsteadily before he growled sharply, "_You_ _are_!"

Sadist Saiyama sighed, "When you light a fire, it burns." His gaze half-closed as he shook his head. "But as long as you keep finding materials to burn it with, puffing on it... there'll be _no_ end." His whip-wielding arm rose as he frowned grimly, soon setting the whip and his arm across his chest to rest nearby his opposite shoulder then murmured grittily, "If you would just see that I'm willing to let this slide, maybe-"

"Why _woul__d_ you let it slide when you _won't_ leave me alone!?" retorted the Harrier tartly as he promptly crouched. "You _never_ fucking leave me alone- How many more times do I need to repeat myself!?"

With a huff, the sadist's expression remained the same. "Then why don't you leave me alone?"

Right away, the Harrier clenched his teeth together as he released a growl from his throat. "Are you fucking dense!?" he shouted out in frustration and threw his arms up. "I've been doing that _all_ this _time_!"

The sadist's face hardened as he hmphed, his nose scrunching up as he grumbled, "Then you're doing a shit job at it, boy."

As the Harrier released a sputtered scoff of exasperation, he started to tremble uncontrollably as he yelled out, "When will you see that this is all your fault, _asshole_!?"

At once, the sadist's expression turned horrendously dour... all except for his eyes, to be exact. They were the only feature on his face that reflected an unreadable emotion; maybe the same kind that he'd given the Harrier in their conversation after the Harrier was confined to the Barracks...

But whatever it was, it made the Harrier even more furious.

"You're not going to stop ruining my existence unless I beat it into you!" he spat irately as he reared a hand then sprinted in, only to duck upon arrival from a late punch from the ever-slow, maybe even previously distracted sadist. "If you won't _listen_ to me-" The Harrier then twisted on the spot, having a split second to spot how the sadist was pulling his whip outward. "Maybe you will if I make you understand the pain you make me _go through_!" he roared bitterly as he kicked a leg up, smashing his toes straight into the sadist's elbow.

The sadist only reacted with a grimace as his arm uselessly swung to his side, dropping his whip from his slack hand immediately. The behemoth turned his great head, as the Harrier stumbled upon touching the ground with his throbbing foot, before growling gruffly, "You're only hurting _yourself_."

"_Shut up_!" snapped the Harrier before lunging to strike the sadist in the face, only to fail when the Harrier's hand was caught by the sadist's working one. "Let go of me!" he bit back.

"This amounts to nothing, boy!" hissed the sadist before he set his now darkened gaze on the Harrier, who was struggling to rip his arm away. He tried clawing at the meaty left hand when it didn't relinquish its hold as the sadist growled on, "You're not going to Erase me, and I'm not going to Erase you."

As the Harrier tried harder to free his hand, he soon resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't escape. He knew he used up all of his counters for Shadow's Play, and Shinin' Spotlight would only provide minimal coverage for him because the sadist had no reason to let go of the Harrier now. Thus, the Harrier wouldn't be able to squeeze his way out of this, so he cursed how the sadist had to stay in one spot throughout the fight and not-

His eyes widened and a small smile came to his lips.

"I'm not planning on Erasing you!" retorted the Harrier harshly before swinging his left arm at the sadist. "I just want you to stop-" He grabbed unsteadily ahold of the khaki front of the sadist's uniform, pushing as much power as he could into his Ignis Swarm. "- _following_ _me_!"

As the sadist flinched, starting to release the younger Reaper's right hand as fireflies escaped from under the Harrier's other curled grasp, the Harrier shot more from his freed hand as he sobbed out with vexation, "You have no reason to because you don't _know_ me… You don't know how _fucked up_ it is that you're trying to screw with me- and use me as if-"

"What are you doing!?" demanded the sadist as fireflies surrounded them. The man started shifting on the spot as heat already started to seep through the Harrier's Reaper garments, viciously nipping the younger's skin while he stayed where he was. "Are you seriously-" Murky-green eyes widened before he reached for the Harrier with his left hand. "Don't tell me you've gone _mad_!?"

"You're not going to move so I'm taking the fight to you," growled the Harrier with a little ugly laugh after the sadist grabbed him by the shoulder. He smiled viciously as he yelled out, "If you think pebbles are going to stop me... then at least I have my literal fireflies to do their thing!"

"Don't be so _stupid_!" yelled Sadist Saiyama furiously but his face flashed with appall; his hand tightly squeezed the Harrier's shoulder. "Cancel your Psyche before-"

"Better than waiting around for months for it to happen…" He lowered his head and closed his eyes, pushing more into his Psyche as he dropped his smile. "I'm not getting through to you, so I'll just do the deed now."

"You're not thinking straight- Don't fucking _do this_!" The sadist stopped to let out an intense growl in his throat before, without warning, he yanked the Harrier towards him.

The Harrier had no time to react as the sadist threw his still working arm around the knapsack, curled his hand around back of the younger Reaper's right arm and leaned his large body over the Harrier in one fell swoop as the first firefly blew up. "Stay fucking still- _gawh_!"

Suddenly, it was a barrage of noise, blaring through his ears. His eyes widened, paralyzed as his ears started to ring and the weight from the other Reaper made his mind go blank. **'Why's he…'**

He was aware of the sadist falling to the ground with him, as the heat of his explosions dusted him while the sadist was seemingly taking all of them for the Harrier. He parted his lips to yell for the man to get off of him and tried to reanimate himself to wiggle out of the man's hold, only for the Harrier to discover he was being weighed down. It left him feeling powerless that couldn't move, forced to wait it out for Ignis Swarm to finish because the attack went completely wrong because of the fool until thick, black smoke settled around them.

Even when the threat was over, it took a while until he heard the sadist faintly give a grunt of pain.

"I told you…" mumbled out the sadist; his gravelly voice nearby the Harrier's hooded neck. "I can take as many hits as you need to use on me… but don't waste them on yourself."

"_Why_…!?" gasped out the Harrier numbly as his obscured vision made him start to lock up. His mind started to ring with the fact that it was getting hotter, as the heat was closing in around him and being restrained wasn't helping to ward off how much…

He inhaled and instantly tried to thrash when smoke flooded his nose. He gasped more and more as he let out a fearful wail, "Let me out!" He shallowly breathed before crying out, punctured by his harsh coughs, "K-Kage, _let_ _me_ _out_!"

"No."

"Why are you _doing_ this!?" he sobbed as he couldn't move. "_Kage_!" He tried swallowing in air, yet it failed to reach his lungs. It left him stuttering on it as he tried harder, but not succeeding in feeding himself the oxygen he desperately needed. "O-Open it…" he gasped out dizzily. "_O__pen_ the hood- I-I'm going to _die_!"

Kage was silent before he spoke faintly, "...It'll be over soon."

"You _want_ me to _die_!?" cried the young man in horror. "I _knew_ you were a sick bas-"

"Breathe."

The young… Reaper did. He blinked as he screwed his expression up in confusion before he tried again, only to smell recesses of smoke.

"G-Good… j-job…" the sadist grunted with effort as his left hand released its hold, the sadist's arm slid out from under the Harrier. "_Ngh_..." He drew his body back, allowing for the Harrier Reaper to view him finally again as a grim, wary look was set on his face. "Are you okay?"

The Harrier flinched violently from where he lay, widening his eyes before he threw a dirty look up at the old man. "_Why_ you-"

Just before the Harrier could lunge for the sadist, who was starting to pull away to sit down, he gasped before grimacing and immediately grasped for his chest. He gritted his teeth, tilting his head towards it as he clenched his eyes closed then breathed shallowly at the tightness his chest had. Within a matter of moments, he was choking on his breath again when realized it was the pain from earlier.

Gasping out, only to lightheadedly watch his vision sway while on the crusty road, the awareness of the pain consumed his attention. He hated how it had increased unfold since then, while he helplessly tightened his hold on his hoodie, feeling it start to...

"Are you okay?" His eyes shot open; the sadist was leaning over the Harrier. He tried squirming away even though the agony was threatening to keep him pinned down, gasping and releasing his hand as he started to drag his body and rub his knapsack across the cement. "Are you okay!?" repeated the sadist, but with more intensity as he instantly frowned deeply. His eyes flashed alarmingly just as the Harrier halted as a sharper pain struck through him, crying out weakly as the sadist bellowed out, "_That's it_\- you need to see a Healer Reaper! Heck, who am I kidding? Oshiro needs to-"

Getting up at once, staggering backwards but pretended it was because of the unsteady terrain, the Harrier closed his eyes halfway and wheezed in a cough, "I-I'm not g-going back…"

"Wh-_What_!?" The sadist shook his head befuddled before his face twisted with frustration. "You're in pain! You _need_ aid- can't you _see_ that!?"

"I-I'm _not_ g-going back!" spat the Harrier with as much as he could muster of confident anger before stepping back warily. "F-For your information, _stay_ out of other people's businesses when it doesn't _concern_ you! My body is my body, and my body has been in so much stress it's no _wonder_ it's freaking out!" He stiffly shook his head twice. "Th-This is normal!"

"Then explain why you obviously can't stand it!" barked the sadist coldly, frowning angrily as he snarled, "Don't be an _idiot_!"

"If I'm an idiot, you're a saint," said the Harrier above an aloof whisper, narrowing his eyes. For whatever reason, the pain was thankfully dying down as he continued, "You should worry about yourself, Sadist Saiyama. Isn't that what sadists do?" He disinterestedly tilted his head. "Hurt people for the fuck of it? No gain, no loss?"

As the Harrier started to regain his usual breathing, his chest starting to grow less taut, the sadist gritted his teeth. He lowered his gaze, pausing for a bit before exhaling. "...It's okay."

"_Oh_, so it's _okay_ to hurt people?" Resting his hand over his heart, the Harrier coldly smiled as he chuckled lightly, "Well then, I suppose-"

"It's okay if you're hurting inside," said the sadist as his head raised, his eyes firm as he was getting out of sitting with a groan. The Harrier frowned immediately, warily watching as the sadist gave a breathful chuckle, "It's okay if you're conflicted about how you feel… There's nothing wrong with it, it's why we were born human. But-" He shook his head before continuing, "_Believe me_. If you think this is the bottom of the barrel…" His eyes glinted. "You should take time to think about how you truly feel about what's eating you."

The Harrier frowned, staring at the sadist uneasily as the older Reaper drew himself up and walked closer. At first, the Harrier wanted to step away, yet he found the old man was in front of him within moments of his hesitation to move. "Talk to me," said the larger Harrier in a simple tone. "Or not talk to me. It's your choice." Widening his eyes, the Harrier gawked at the man anxiously as the sadist inhaled, waving his glowing left hand over his slack arm before shrugging without a care when the earthy-brown light faded away. "I doubt you would consider it, but if I were you... " He groaned out while rolling his shoulders. "_Gnnahh_... pretending the world is out to get you is the worst way to live your existence.

"You're not the first to have a bad Day," continued the sadist undeterred. The younger Harrier gradually became more and more tense and nervous the longer the old man stood in front of the younger Reaper, the sadist's eyes never leaving the Harrier as his expression grew solemn. "And from all the hell you've given Oshiro and the rest of us… you should be doing shit, not glorifying Erasure. That's the last thing you would be doing right now."

The Harrier's gaze slowly narrowed as his heart grew slightly less painful. "You're mental…" He shook his head, stepping back nervously as he frowned with aloof anger, growling out dangerously low, "Thinking you can bulldoze over what is important and what isn't important to me… Thinking you can make things better by diminishing the worth of what's happened to me... " His face contorted when he hissed out, "I don't listen to fools… I don't listen to them when they think they _know_ better than me- I don't listen to them because the fact remains they are sprouting nonsense to the _wrong_ person...!"

Straightaway, the sadist's expression grew pained, closing his eyes as he all but gave a crestfallen sigh, "Has it ever occurred to you… you shouldn't let your trust issues ruin what little you have for yourself?"

"I _had_ little," said the Harrier immediately, shocking himself at how quick he was to respond. He wrinkled his nose with spite towards himself that he had just, in fact, done that, then growled out ill-temperedly with a huff, "Took you long enough to notice."

The sadist adopted a calmer mannerism when he simply blinked. "What? You think you have nothing?"

"_Ugh_, you're not a therapist..." groaned the Harrier as he rolled his eyes and stared off to the side, pursing his lips with dissatisfaction that the old fool thought he could trick the Harrier into revealing the matter at hand. He grumpily half-closed his eyes, feeling his chest pulse irritably as he felt slightly self-conscious for no reason.

The Harrier hated how the sadist had gotten under his skin before a minute even passed, wondering how the man ever could have loosened his tongue as he sulked about the fact that his strong front was starting to slip. The Harrier didn't want to let himself be vulnerable right now; it was tactless and he's gotten this far without reverting back to the meek, pathetic coward who innocently assumed the world was starting to come around for his family...

"_Seriously_, you have a brain, Scamp," grumbled the sadist as he crossed his arms, snorting noisily before spitting in the opposite direction the Harrier was gazing absently to. "You have a friend- and it's not like your killing crusade was trashed because Erasure suddenly became appealing to you."

In a split moment, the Harrier's eyes blew wide and he froze completely. His breathing expired too fast, and his heart thumped and throbbed harder and painfuller, before he swung back to the sadist.

"_You_ _fucking_... SHITHEAD!" he roared out before abruptly flinging himself at the larger-statured Reaper with an incoherent yell of rage.

The sadist had no time to react before the Harrier tackled into him, pitching them both down to the ground. The Harrier roughly pulled himself up to sit atop of the sadist's chest, huffing in and out raggedly as his glower grew watery as stray tears escaped his blazed eyes.

"How dare you _mock_ what happened-!" he rawfully snarled all at once from his throat, glaring daggers right down at the face that stared back with shock. He sniffed hard and wetly as he clenched his teeth to the point he felt pressure between the top and bottom rows of them, tightly balling his hands even after the moment they ached horribly as he hoarsely screamed out, "It was all I _had_! ALL I FUCKING _HAD_!"

Before he knew it, the Harrier threw down a clout right at the sadist's face, which brutally was forced to veer in the other direction, and did the same to the other side without hesitation. His awareness of the sadist's expression was lost as it became fuzzy and blurry the longer he continued with each blow he swung- punctured by every sentence he screeched out, "No one _cares_ about it! No one _cared_ about it! Not even _you_! Not even the _posh bastard_! Not even the _Composer_!"

The Harrier could even forget his surroundings and what he did in his blind rage as he rawfully croaked out in his yells, "What am I supposed to do if that was the_ last thing_ I believed in anymore in this SHITHOLE!? Tell me to _smarten up _when anything I do is _thwarted_ by the UNIVERSE! Answer your own damn question about who are the wrongdoers because you don't know the _hell_ we're supposed to ignore- to leave Shibuya to its dirty, rotten, scumbag SINNERS!"

He suddenly choked on his next exhale, hiccuping as his reared hand fell slack on the sadist's stomach while the other hung at the Harrier's other side. "...I just wanted to help in the one way I th-_thought_ I could…" he sobbed miserably, gritting his teeth harder as he sniffled sharply and wasn't sure how much liquid was gushing down his cheeks. He bitterly smiled as he laughed in his next sob, "I just wanted to stop the v-violence… the c-cruelty… the u-unforgivable p-_plights_ s-so someone could rest easy without ending up in the sh-shithole… Is it t-too much to ask that I wanted l-less victims to come into the world…? Th-That there wouldn't be someone s-suffering when they didn't even d-deserve _it_...?" His voice cracked. "T-To not b-become someone like m-_me_…?"

The Harrier choked on another sob, shaking his head as he half-closed his eyes and hung his head. He trembled at each new ragged sob he gave, "Wh-Why couldn't I have died…? D-Did I not deserve to die…? D-Deserve to finally be at peace from all the sh-_shit_ I was going through…? W-Was that why the Reaper P-Processed me…? B-Because they thought it was h-hilarious that the way I was going was t-too tame in comparison to wh-what I could be _tortured_ with…? B-Because they wanted me to realize there's no end to the p-pain and m-misery for me…?"

Suddenly, he struggled to breathe, bringing his hands to his face before harshly sobbing into them and wailed wretchedly; a few pathetic whimpers escaping between his loud sobs and snivelling. His heart ached so much, yet it mattered so little to him as he coughed dryly and gasped in upset laughter. His mind faded into numbness as he couldn't care to stop breaking down now when there couldn't possibly be a reason to stop as he let himself surrender into his agony…

"I-I could have just _died_…" he gasped out in a small, whimpering voice. "I-I could have just _died_, and _yet_..." He felt his lower lip shake. "A-And y-_yet_…" He weakly chuckled hollowly, "I-I'm u-useless… w-worthless… n-nothing… th-the _scum_ o-of all _scums_… th-the p-pathetic _tumour_… th-the _asshole_ o-of _assholes_…" He smiled loosely as he sniffled wetly and quietly, "I-I'm just a _nobody_… s-so _why_ am I h-here...?"

He felt so tired… he was so _done_ with this… Why couldn't he just-

"_Daybreak_!"

A blinding brilliance immediately filled his gaze and he was pitched into the air.

Spinning uncontrollably sideways, he landed limp with a pathetic thud. But instead of getting up, the Harrier chose to lay on the road, blankly staring into the rubble of the pavement from his earlier fight as his ears rang horribly in deafness. He was aware of how his right side of his body was essentially on fire as white, almost numbing, excruciating pain overtook his thoughts, and he felt as if… The Harrier coughed, tasting a familiar nasty flavour spill out from his mouth as he realized he couldn't even register where his shoulder was on his body.

What he could register… was the fact that something was close to his neck.

The Harrier closed his eyes as the familiar presence of the posh bastard was standing over his body. Did he… did the posh bastard… attack him…? Was the man… going to Erase him…? His mind spun, dizzy and almost swaying even when he laid on the road, as he let himself resign to his fate. After so many spats with the man, he expected for it to have happened sooner… What took the man so long to finally do the deed...?

"...you gone far... around…"

The Harrier grimaced weakly, wondering what the heck that even meant as his eyes lethargically fluttered.

"...all wrong-"

"After all... why...I... let you...him. Stand down, or... consequences."

He feebly inhaled and heard a whistling sound at the back of his throat as he wheezed, feeling his awareness of his surroundings grow smaller and smaller as time went on… Why was the posh bastard hesitating...?

"Don't… him…through almost...iro…"

"...won't accept…"

The Harrier could have sworn… something was tugging at his ankles...

"...that's it! ...had it with… petty feud…"

A whisper came, "Don't struggle."

In the next moment, the conversation he hardly had a grasp on rapidly disappeared as he somehow knew he had sank into the ground. All it did was leave him dazed and ill to his stomach the moment he was flung into the air; his consciousness fading out quickly...

* * *

**Almost Six Weeks After Death...**

* * *

The fire raged on.

As the young Reaper faced the Conductor, he could practically feel the flames lick past his sleeves, yet he couldn't even feel the warmth. He searched the other man's expression for anything, only to find nothing when it didn't change from how stoic it was. He wanted to say something- anything- but his words escaped him as he kept the man in his slightly watery sight.

The Conductor's gaze merely reflected the reddish-orange that ate away at the building nearby. And when the midnight-blue hardened, they still hadn't taken a look at the hazard beside them. "I will not ask of the circumstances. Follow me."

As the man deftly turned, the Reaper did as he was told. He kept his head low as he walked, his heart heavy and his mind darting sparely as his numbness stretched from his heart.

Even as people raced out of their homes around them, embers sailing into the air… the Conductor and young Reaper set down the path quietly as the chaos went on from behind them. The further they got away, the more the Reaper felt his feet drift closer to his boss' side. He wasn't sure what to feel when the man merely didn't put distance between them, despite knowing what the other man probably felt already. And yet, the Reaper refused to think about what happened… not wanting to reflect on it when he'd rather listen to their footfalls and not the screams or the framework of the ablaze building straining horrendously...

"On record," said the Conductor, once they were far enough away. His voice was curt and his head remained forward, not regarding the Reaper shadowing his movements. "I believe it may be best if you remain in the Underground for the next Week."

"I-I understand, Sir," said the Reaper quietly as he dipped his head.

"Very good." The Conductor's cane may have struck the ground harder than it was supposed to, so the Reaper simply held his tongue, not wanting to speak out of turn. "While it may have been harrowing for you, expect that you should not bear the connections you once had. By that, I mean you should know by now that your decision to join our ranks has classified you as no longer a part of their world, as you are no longer connected to that Plane by way of being or your impression on it."

Nodding, the Reaper raised his head slightly as the Conductor added sternly, "And while it may seem heartless, it is better off accepting they do not know you any longer. The less contact you share, the easier it will become to adapt to the Plane you now belong to. If you cannot do that, you may as well be a restless spirit."

For a brief second, the Reaper found himself slowing to a halt. "I don't have a reason to maintain contact anymore, Sir."

In response, the Conductor stopped as well, staring forward nonverbally before he merely adjusted his hold on his cane. With a deft turn of his body and cane, his narrowed eyes gleamed warily at the Reaper. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, Sir." The Reaper squared his shoulders, inhaling while straightening his back and settling his wings. He didn't dare to tear his gaze away from the Conductor, in spite of how much as he wanted to from the intensity of the other man's gaze. "I am certain."

Within a few moments, the Conductor pivoted to face the direction they had been going, yet his head failed to remain forward this time as he sighed, "I do not understand what drove you to where you were standing today." His lips went flat. "However... that does not excuse what your intentions were."

The Reaper finally felt his face change, holding onto a small frown now. "My intentions…?"

"Yes. I believe I have not stuttered in any way or form, mind you." The Conductor's only visible eye drifted towards the Reaper. "Has it occurred to you, that chasing the past yields no payoff in terms of what we do in the Reapers' Game's line of work?"

He felt his shoulders- no, hackles rise.

"There is no admirability of letting little quandaries get the best of us," continued the Conductor calmly, maybe even sternly. The Reaper couldn't figure out which was which in this case, as the inflection of the man suggested either could be present. "After all, you had chosen to walk a new trail, casting off what you may have gotten in-"

"I don't need you to reiterate what I decided," cut in the Reaper indignantly, instantly feeling his wings fan out. After a tense moment shared between them, he ducked his head and mumbled uneasily, "S-Sorry… I-I mean no offence, Sir."

The Conductor's eye skirted away. "This is why I believe it would be best if you isolate yourself from the Realground for the time being. Not just for what has happened, but for your sake… To concentrate on yourself, be reminded of what your duties are-" The man's head turned to face forward. "And to know your place."

"...I-I understand, S-Sir," said the Reaper meekly, not lifting his gaze as he stared past his shaky knees at his shoes. "A-And th-thank you, Sir. F-For keeping m-my best interests i-in mind."

"You are welcome." The Conductor's head dipped briefly. "But let us not tarry, lest you believe we should remain a spectacle for the last few Pacts," sniffed the Conductor before starting to lead the way again; an unspoken command silencing the Reaper who had yet to follow after the finely-dressed man. He watched his boss walk down the path, having yet to relax or wipe off his frown as he cast one long look back in the direction of the dark smoke, billowing from the top of the terrace.

The longer he gazed at the flickering flames, the collapsed foundations, the panicking denizens… the harder it was to turn back to spot the posh man waiting for him. He had to force himself to jog over to catch up, as his thoughts remained on the house rather than the Conuctor's disappointment.

* * *

**To be continued... Hope you enjoyed the chapter! =3**

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**EeveeGen9988: I don't have much to say, but I think the Fun Facts I have for you all will speak for themselves. *sweatdrops sheepishly***

**Fun Fact - When the story was in it's earliest stage on May 18th, 2019- the day before it became a story- the three Pins that were originally going to be MR Protagonist's Pins were known as Sputter Buzz, Pin-Prick and Cripple Check. Pin-Prick never made the cut after I wrote a test fight scene back in July 2019, but Ignis Swarm and Cripplecheck made it to MR Protagonist's arsenal after a quick revamp of what their Psyches were.**

**Fun Fact - The Pin designs of MR Protagonist's Psyches for the fight were established and finalized on October 2nd, 2019 (where I put them up on DeviantArt, if you wanted to see a visual representation of the Pins). Ignis Swarm and Cripplecheck's Psyches were created in July 2019 and Virtuoso, Alla Breve, Shinin' Spotlight and Shadow's Play's Psyches were created during late September to early October 2019. All of the Psyches were finalized in December 2019 when I started to finally write the fight scene.**

**Fun Fact - The MR Protagonist and Sadist Saiyama fight scene choreography entered its planning stage at the end of August 2019, but the scene had been written and finalized in December 2019 and January 2020. Part of the reason why it took so long to actually start writing it all depended upon certain events from Part 1, 2 and 3 that has led up to it, as the trigger to the fight could have been taken in multiple directions. However, one side-note I have is that one part of the battle was added at the last moment in the editing phase.**

**Fun Fact - The runner up trigger of the fight scene involved MR Protagonist being frustrated that his proposal was shot down right after it happened and he felt the need to take his anger out on Sadist Saiyama, for thinking he ensured that the proposal was refused, by challenging him to a fight. However, in that version, Sadist Saiyama didn't want to accept unless MR Protagonist promised he would give up on Recruitment if Sadist Saiyama won. So it was all about MR Protagonist having to fight hard to show Sadist Saiyama his worldview was worth fighting for, wanting to show Sadist Saiyama who is boss and that what he was fighting for was on the line and he couldn't bear to lose to Sadist Saiyama because of that.**

**Fun Fact - When I was writing the fight scene between MR Protagonist and Sadist Saiyama, I listened to Decisive Battle I from Octopath Traveler and Cynthia's battle theme from Pokemon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum. So when I went through editing of the battle scene, sometimes I heard segments of those songs bleed into my head during certain portions of the fight, so I thought that was cool. =3**

**Fun Fact - For the battle, I forgot MR Protag had his ****knapsack on him! ****So... *****cringes* I had to touch up on certain aspects of the battle to incorporate the knapsack, because MR Protag wouldn't just throw his knapsack to the side to fight Sadist Saiyama and risk having wandering Reapers take it after MR Protag lost it the first time. XD**

**Fun Fact - While the majority of the Fun Facts are for the battle, which is a lot (I'm sorry about that) and doesn't necessarily mean the battle was the most important part of the chapter... the scene that required the most attention to detail was Scene 5 (MR Protag and the sadist's private conversation scene) which was the one that caused me the most grief. *laughs in her misery of having to edit it***

**Fun Fact -** **Seeing as the 104 Building (or 109 in real life) was built in 1979, and the story takes place in 1975... the district couldn't be named the 104 Building district in the story. I tried looking online to see if there was a name that it had before the building was created, but I had no such luck... *hangs head* In order to remedy that, I did some more digging online and decided to come up with a name for the district for the story. What I came up with, as you had probably scratched your head at in the chapter, was Circle Link, or in Japanese, it would be known as Sākururinku or サークルリンク. (I apologize if I got the name wrong or/and if I did miss what it was actually called back then.) D=**

**The reason why I chose that name is that in the game, 104 Building serves a small district which serves as a bridge to the Dogenzaka and Shibukyu Department Store districts when you enter it from the Scramble Crossing, as well as how it houses shops for Players to get items from 104 itself. Since the 104 Building doesn't exist yet at the time, to me the area in this story would only serve as a passage way to Dogenzaka and Shibukyu Department Store, so in a way, it's like a mini street that lets you do that. From what I saw from the name of 109, it had the word "maru" in it, which means circle (but usually is a word that's attached to Japanese ships), so I thought I'd expand upon that and eventually came to the word "s****ākuru". And because**** it's a street that allows you to walk either way to eventually come back in a full circle when you leave it to get back to the Scramble Crossing, you may call it a literal link to those two districts, which is where I got the word "****rinku" from. Thus, that is**** why I called it Circle Link to try to be in tune with the names of TWEWY's districts.**** *sweatdrops and hopes that makes sense***

**Fun Fact - For the chosen title of the chapter, this one this time around was particularly challenging to nail down. For starters, the other potential candidates I ended up not using were Mr Trailblazer, Pathfinder, Standee, Scrapper, Slacker, Stray, Spitfire, or Sufferer. The reason why I didn't go with them was because they focused on a certain aspect, but didn't properly reflect the other aspects I was hoping to delve into this time around. As such, that's how I arrived at the name Mr Subject. For the word 'subject', there are multiple meanings for it, but some of the meanings work with the theme(s) of the chapter quite well. ;D**

**Also, by braving Part 4's read, and optional read of Fun Facts, you have unlocked more post-chapter content. *throws confetti in the air* =D**

* * *

**PREVIOUS LETTER THREAD CONTENT [SUCCESSFULLY] RETRIEVED**

**DATE_OF_CREATION = 06/07/22/PM/SUN/18/MAY/1975**

**THREAD_TYPE = [PRIVATE]=[HM to KF]**

**LOG_NAME = MsCFHL**

**ENTRY_NO = 48159077**

**DOCUMENT_ALIAS = Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry 48159077**

**INCOMING RESPONSE [SUCCESSFULLY] RETRIEVED**

**DATE_OF_RETRIEVAL = 6/50/35/PM/FRI/30/MAY/1975**

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**Response #1HM to _Response #1KF_ to **_**Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry #48159077  
**_**RESPONSE CONTENT IS AS FOLLOWS**

Dear, Ms. Fukuhashi,

I wanted to just check in with you about the Secret Document I sent you over a Week ago, since it's been quite some time since we've last spoken. I was a little worried about if it got sent right, or if what I wrote was enough. I'm actually feeling good about what I wrote, but I can't help but be paranoid I did something wrong.

In other news, remember what I said about something not feeling right? Or me thinking something didn't feel right? Well, the thing is... I don't actually know how to use the Leylines! I know it's pretty bad that I'm only bringing this up now, but I didn't want you thinking I was getting too ahead of myself again and contacting you before you received my report, so I just wanted to wait it out until you (hopefully) got my report before I make a doozy before you did. But that's not just it, um, I actually have something that also doesn't feel right that's different than what I talked about before!

You see, I don't know if you know about this, or watch Shibuya even when it's my thing or anything- but did you know there's been a lot of murders going around? I, uh... don't know what's going on, but is seventy people dying a good thing? Or is it not what we're supposed to be looking at? Because... I just wanted to check if this was a normal thing for that many to die in a Week! I mean, as of last Tuesday, that's how many people had died before the Reapers' Game's Day Seven. I've never understood why they operate the Game from Wednesdays to Tuesdays, but within those Days... people are just dying and I don't think this is normal! I know I said I wanted to talk about the safety of you getting my report, but I just feel faint at the thought that murders are happening so frequently all of a sudden!

And you know what? Come to think of it... I feel like I'm forgetting something. You know what? I think something might not be right because I could have sworn the other Day I heard something on the radio talking about this, but other than that I feel like this reminds me of something. It's on the tip of my tongue, but I could have sworn someone mentioned something like this but not like this happening? I dunno, but could you pretty please shed some light? I would be very grateful and I just want to make sure my nerves are not going haywire again over this!

Wishing you well up there,  
\- Hiraku Maeda

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**Response #2KF to _Response #1HM_ to _Response #1KF_ to **_**Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry #48159077  
**_**RESPONSE CONTENT IS AS FOLLOWS**

Dear, Mr. Maeda,

Do not fret, your report came in and I was in the middle of reviewing it when your message arrived. My only criticism is that your grammar is abysmal, but that is a personal peeve of mine, as well as the fact that your report came in a format that likewise is jarring on the eyes to read. Other than that, I believe your report is sufficient. However, your comment about a followup report for missing content is nothing but concerning. Before you send in your next report, please do not rush to send it in if you believe not all is intact. As much as I prompted you for speed, you must not choose it over quality.

On this subject matter, I suggest you heed this, as a report that is dedicated to Arts and Psyches is an exceptionally significant topic that should not be disregarded. I believe the Master would be pleased if you figure out more about Arts that have sprung up during your term, as knowing the techniques that the Composer's Reapers are using would help to dissuade potential suspicion that the Composer is planning anything amiss. However, I only use that as an example, as the Composer has had no reason to turn against our relations as of the moment, and I believe our terms have not been breeched in any way or form. Do not take to heart that I am implying the Composer is to be distrusted, I do not want you misinterpreting the meaning I have painted for you.

I understand that my advice may have been unwise to give when you had no way of turning to me for guidance on the matter for using Leylines, and for that, forgive my naivety for not providing further information. Leylines are, as you mentioned in your last report, the veins of Shibuya. I couldn't be more pleased with your astute application of your understanding from that form of explanation. To a normal Lower Ground denizen's eye, one cannot see the Leylines as easily as we may. The Composer's ability to see them is because of our gifting to allow for the Composer to see them as we can, as the Composer maintains Shibuya by their will and intertwined connection to the settlement itself. I believe the Composer created a single place where one who cannot see the Leylines can when they enter the very source, the heart of the Shibuya River, from my understanding. Do not wander into the Composer's bode, Maeda.

In order to use the Leylines, simply search the streets during the times when no eyes will observe you, Up-tune your Frequency to your Angel status, and you shall find them. However, do not linger in your form, the Composer will know of your presence if you give the Composer ample time to locate you. By using the Leylines, you run the risk of letting a fragment of your being enter the stream of Shibuya and the Composer will know of your disruption. I have no inkling how the Composer will react to an Angel tampering with Shibuya's Leylines, but know that you cannot be careless with this.

As for your concerns, your natural ability of sensing unrest has done you no favours for your self-esteem. As an Angel, it is not your duty to focus on how many people die in a Week. I cannot stress this enough you are not responsible for observing Shibuya's mortality rate, you are to observe the Reapers' Game and the Underground.

You will check the Leylines, settle your unease then go back to watching over the Lower Grounds, maintain the dwelling Rule Masters have used for decades and complete your reports. That is all that I will ask of you. Know that your duties are not complex and worrying about unimportant matters such as deaths is not part of them.

Heed my words,  
\- Kotone Fukuhashi

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**Response #2HM to _Response #2KF_ to _Response #1HM_ to _Response #1KF_ to **_**Maeda's Cry For Help Logs - Entry #48159077  
**_**RESPONSE CONTENT IS AS FOLLOWS**

Dear, Ms. Fukuhashi,

Thank you for letting me know it arrived. I don't know what you were talking about formatting, but it looked normal when I sent it in. Sorry about my grammar, I never was good at doing school stuff, but I will try harder next time?

I've never met the Composer, so I hope He's a nice guy. I don't think I'd last a minute with Him, or even talk to Him with a letter! That takes a lot of guts to just go up and talk to someone as important as the Composer, so I'll steer clear of Composery-looking people then!

Got it. I don't know how I'll use Leylines, but I'll try to figure it out when I see one! Thank you for letting me know how to find them!

I understand, Fukuhashi, but those people died out of the blue! Something just doesn't feel right because I think they were murdered! Murdered, I tell you! I don't think something's right, Fukuhashi!

Hoping you're right,  
\- Hiraku Maeda


End file.
